


No Happy Places

by SarahSomeone



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Established Relationship, Heavy Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:00:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21566134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahSomeone/pseuds/SarahSomeone
Summary: Season 4 Alternate.Trapped in his own mind, Eliot is forced to watch as the Monster possessing his body murders its way across the world, tormenting the man he loves in the process. Quentin’s mental state wears thin the further away hope becomes. This is the story of how they survive against impossible odds, unimaginable horrors, and devastating trauma.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 18
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Intro/Information:
> 
> So, originally I had written a prequel to this. It consisted of the events of Season 3 with my changes. However, when it grew to about 40,000 words, I decided that rather than make anyone read that, I would just briefly go over what was different, and why this is an Established Relationship fic.
> 
> Everything is canon right up until ‘Peaches and Plums’ and their lives together. Eliot is taken aback by Quentin’s proposal about a relationship, but doesn’t outright reject him. The two dance around each other, making excuses for why they don’t come together. Neither thinks the other really loves the other, insecurity getting in the way. These events culminate on the night before Blackspire. When Quentin announces his plan to stay in the castle with the Monster, Eliot breaks down and the two exchange love confessions, and some pretty hot sex. This changes Quentin’s mind about staying in the castle. 
> 
> The Quest remains relatively the same, except Penny 40 doesn’t get stuck in the Underworld. Julia uses her magic to build him a new body, and we get to keep him. I just couldn’t bear losing him to that horrible corporate Penny they made him into. We still do get Penny 23 though, cause I kinda like him too. There are a few other changes to the Quest. Since Quentin isn’t going to stay in the castle, they come up with another plan. They’re going to attempt to cast an Incorporate Bond (Alice’s idea). They theorize that the combined power of the bond and the bricks of the castle will be enough to keep the Monster inside without anyone staying behind. The knight Ora agrees to this, and lets them into the castle. They bring the gun as backup.
> 
> Alice still betrays them, Julia still remakes the keys, and the Library and McAllisters still show up. When the Monster comes out of hiding, it kills Ora and heads in Quentin’s direction. As the identity spell is taking effect, Eliot manages to shoot the Monster at the last moment, buying them all enough time to escape. Once outside, the Library attempts the Bond, but unbeknownst to them, the Monster has already escaped, transporting itself to Earth before they can seal it away. From there, it possessed Eliot and canon events begin to take place. The story begins as the gang regains their memories.
> 
> This is Quentin and Eliot alternating POV. All events are covered, some from both perspectives. If its too confusing, tedious, or just plain horrible, let me know. I’d rather change it or delete it then have a piece of crap out there. This will be a long one, so if no one reads it, I will be far from surprised.
> 
> That being said, if you are reading this, I hope you enjoy it. It gets dark, so brace yourself and mind the tags. I’ll place more specific trigger warnings at the top of each Chapter, just to be safe. This first Chapter contains violence and graphic depictions of it.
> 
> Thank you! :)

Chapter 1

_Eliot POV_

Consciousness comes to Eliot all at once, like a bolt of lightning. A few memories dart across his mind and he can remember being someone else. Its a vague sort of feeling, something he can’t quite reach out and touch. Its too much to think about at once. The last thing he can fully recall is Blackspire, the Library and Fogg showing up the moment magic was on. Irene McAllister viciously pouring the potion down his throat before her traveler henchman shut his mouth and held it closed. The very last thing he can remember is the young man, the Monster, who came around the corner behind them. It stared at them in confusion and anger, before killing Ora. It began to stride towards Quentin, and as Eliot’s mind slipped away he did the only thing he could think of. He pulled the gun from the back of his pants, raised it and fired. The last thing he remembers is the familiar pull of traveling. Then, nothing at all.

He’s in an unfamiliar place. There are stones everywhere, some kind of ruins. He’s shocked as he sees another man in front of him, pinned to a tree, stomach torn open and internal organs hanging everywhere. It disgusts him and he tries to look away. Something stops him for a minute, but then his body does turn, and then he’s looking at Quentin.

Quentin is leaning back against one of the stones, sweating and trying to catch his breath. He jumps up after a moment and attempts to fire off some magic. Nothing happens, but he’s still panting and Eliot tries to rush to the man’s side. Again, he is stopped. His legs won’t obey his thoughts, his arms lay heavy at his sides and when he tries to call Quentin’s name nothing happens. Something horrifying occurs next. As Eliot watches Quentin, his body does begin to move. His mouth opens and words come out, words that aren’t his own.

_Quentin. You’re back._

The cadence is unfamiliar and all wrong. It sends a cold spike down his spine. What the fuck was happening to him? His legs begin to move and his body is walking forward, approaching Quentin. Eliot tries to stop himself, but again nothing happens. His arms reach out to steady Quentin, who leans back in discomfort. He appears disoriented, looking around wildly before meeting Eliot’s eyes again.

"Yeah," Quentin gathers himself, working himself quickly into what Eliot recognizes is his strategy mode. He’s trying to survive. "I guess I am."

Eliot’s body guides Quentin over to one of the large stones, pushes him down to sit. He’s picking up a flower, and then he’s sitting with Quentin. His head leans over onto Quentin’s shoulder. Quentin tenses again, and Eliot fights the movements his body is making. Nothing is happening and Eliot begins to panic. Why can’t he move? Or speak? Its difficult to focus, so he only catches snippets of the conversation his voice is having against his will.

_I was getting tired of the Brian game._

_Yeah, me too._

_So, you had to… torture him. To death._

_Gods are so tricky._

_They owe you._

_You really understand me Quentin. Its good to have a friend like you._

_Speaking of friends. When you get back… what the Gods took from you. Maybe, could I maybe have… Eliot back?_

What is Quentin talking about? Back from what? Eliot’s right here. Confusion tips his mind on its side as he tries to rationalize. It comes to him all at once. Suddenly he can feel it. A great pressure is pushing on his mind from all sides, forcing him down into himself. Its strong, impossibly strong, and he can do nothing to fight against it. Its not just a force, its… an entity. Someone else is inside him. He can feel its thoughts rather than hear them. And Eliot knows.

The Monster hadn’t died when he shot it. It’s taken Eliot’s body from him. Fear and panic sink deep into his gut. He’s completely helpless, unable to move or speak. His mind is crying out but nothing happens. The monster rages at Quentin, and then they’re in another place.

Again, he has no idea where he is. His body walks through what looks like the living space of an apartment. Its luxurious and well decorated, clearly upscale. In the room he watches as Quentin walks away from him. He’s going in the direction of several people standing across from him.  
Eliot recognizes those people as his friends. Quentin’s talking to them. He grips Kady’s arm and pulls her back. Both Pennys are standing there, flanked by Josh on the left. Eliot is both sad and relieved that he doesn’t see Margo there. He needs to know she’s okay, but also doesn’t want her in the path of the Monster.

_Because I’m not here to play._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Quentin POV_

Quentin comes back into existence with a long, violent flash. It starts out dim, but it gets so bright that he can no longer see. The ground beneath his feet shakes and his body vibrates at an impossible speed. Brian slips away, like water circling a drain, and Quentin takes his place. He doesn’t regain his memories in any kind of order. Instead, they come like a barrage of torpedoes. Its not the little things, though that’s all there and present. Its the simple fact that he’s Quentin and not Brian. The very last memories to come to him are the most recent ones, the last things he can recall before slipping away. The castle, the Monster, the gun, the potion. Eliot.

Eliot, who he’s looking at right now. Through the blur, he can see him standing there, facing away from him, but he can tell its him. He would know that hair, that posture, that long lean body, anywhere. It was the man he loved. Or was it?

Though Brian ceases to exist, Quentin can still remember being him. He still has all the memories of the last few months. Most prominently, he can remember being kidnapped by a Monster and dragged around on a murder tour. As Brian, he hadn’t known who the Monster was, how it came to be, or in whose body it resided. As Quentin, he understands. The Monster from the castle is possessing Eliot’s body.

Quentin’s heart stutters in his chest at this realization. No. Not his Eliot. Not the beautiful, loving, open man he had spent a lifetime loving. The man he hoped to spend another lifetime loving. He’s been taken from him. Its an unimaginably horrifying worst case scenario. Only one thing could be worse, only one other thing. Eliot might not even be alive. There was no way to know if he was still in there. No, Quentin thinks. Eliot had to be alive. The alternative was unacceptable.

As the shaking stops and the world rights itself, his brain kicks into survival mode. He’s seen what the Monster can do, knows it could turn around and kill him with a thought, so his body moves. He’s still panting, chest heaving, when his hands fly up. He isn’t think about it, its some kind of instinct. He fires off the strongest shielding spell he knows. When nothing happens, he stands there, frozen. With no idea what to do next, he watches as the Monster turns Eliot’s body towards him.

“Quentin,” it says. “You’re back.”

He flies into strategy mode. From what he understood about the Monster, it liked him. It might not want to kill him, at least not right away. He had to keep himself alive, at least long enough to free Eliot. As Brian, his ability to survive depended solely on his willingness to obey the Monster’s commands, and otherwise stay out of its way. The Monster wants friends, wants Quentin to be his friend. He uses that as a starting point, his only advantage.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” he says, trying to keep his voice even.

Across from the Monster, the person Quentin knows is a servant of some God, Enyalius, is still being held up against a tree with magic. There’s a giant, gaping hole in the front of its chest, and his blood is coating Eliot’s hands. The Monster is giving Quentin a strange look. Its staring at his hands. Quentin realizes it must have seen him try to fire off magic. Shit. But luck is on his side. The Monster has no idea that Quentin was trying to defend himself.

“Oh,” it says. “You wanted to play.” The body of the servant slides to the ground with a thump. “Sorry. He’s too dead.”

“Oh,” Quentin says. “That’s okay. Uh, maybe next time.”

“Yes.” The Monster smiles and starts to walk towards him. Quentin fights the urge to back up. He has to play his cards right here. “I think its time to take a break, don’t you?”

The Monster gestures at a large stone outcropping, and he follows it over. It bends over to pick up a flower, before sliding up on top of it, sitting with its legs dangling. Quentin follows suit, forcing his muscles to relax. Once he’s sitting, the Monster scoots closer to him, laying its head on his shoulder. It plays absentmindedly with the flower, while Quentin comes up with a plan. Maybe he can convince the Monster to just let Eliot go. Its a long shot, but he hopes he can leverage their friendship. Maybe the Monster will understand.

“I’m glad your back Quentin,” it says. “I was getting a little tired of the Brian game.”

“Yeah, me too.” Quentin agrees, and its not necessarily a lie. He’s glad to be himself again. He tries for gentle. “Hey, so maybe I missed something when we were playing, but you had to torture him. To death. Why, again?”

“Gods are so tricky.”

“Right,” Quentin says. “But what about the one that you were after today?”

“Oh, we’ll get him. And I’ll get back what he took from me. And then the others. They all took.”

“Took, what, exactly?” Quentin asks. The Monster lifts its head.

“See, that’s what I don’t really know. They took this part of me that knew things. Its not fair.”

“No, yeah, totally.” Quentin tries for gentle, soothing. The Monster is innocent in some ways. It just wants what was stolen from it. He could understand that, in a way. “They owe you. Got it.” The Monster turns to Quentin with a smile.

“You really understand me, Quentin,” the Monster says. “Its good to a have a friend like you.” Good. The Monster has at least some kind of concept of friendship. Maybe he can make it understand.

“You know, speaking of friends,” he says, “when you get back what the Gods took from you, maybe… could I maybe have… Eliot back?” The Monster jerks back.

“The one who tried to kill me?”

“Hey, hey, no. No. That was a mistake.”

“You were there.” It stares at him, horrified. “You miss him. You miss all your friends. The ones in my castle who tried to kill me.”

Quentin isn’t sure what to say. He’s not a very good liar, so he doesn’t have much of an argument. From the Monster’s perspective, that’s certainly what it looked like. He searches for what to say next, but he takes to long. The Monster considers his hesitation as confirmation.

“Good,” the Monster says. It looks away from him, nods once, and then Quentin’s being transported.

In the next second he finds himself standing in the doorway of some kind of apartment. He can hear voices talking, recognizes the tones of Kady and Penny. Shit. Why would the Monster bring him here? He has a pretty good idea, so he moves in the direction of his friends.

Kady, Josh, and both Pennys are standing in what must be the main living space of the dwelling. They look just as dazed as he’d been when he first recovered his memories and self. Quentin knows that the identity spell must also have been broken for them, because they recognize him.

“Oh my God,” Kady says as she catches sight of Quentin’s blood stained clothes. He makes his way over to them while the Monster slowly stalks in behind him.

“Mis hermanos!” Josh greets when he sees them both. Kady seems to know something’s wrong, because her brow is knitted together in concern. Quentin hurries to her side just in time to stop her from approaching the Monster she thinks is Eliot.

“Where were you? We looked everywhere.” she asks.

“Stay back,” Quentin warms, gripping her lightly by the arm and tugging her back.

“Why?”

The Monster turns its gaze to them, tilts its head forward. Eliot’s eyes light up with orange gold glowing embers.

_“Because I’m not here to play.”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margo strategizes. Eliot struggles.

Chapter 2

_Quentin POV_

They stand there looking at it, frozen in fear. The Monster seems satisfied that its scared them because the fire in its eyes burns away and is replaced with Eliot’s beautiful golden brown hue. Penny 40 must be the first to try and do something. Quentin doesn’t have a chance to tell him that traveling is pointless. He falls hard to his knees, stuck to the ground.

“No traveling,” the Monster scolds. “Now. Where to start? Order is important with these things. Who goes first, who goes last. Oh.” The Monster observes the look Kady is giving to her Penny. “You’re looking at him because you don’t want him to die. Which means he has to go before you.” The Monster is pacing now. He’s a spider choosing among the bugs caught helpless in its web. It turns to Quentin. “You care about all of them. So you’re last.”

In the same moment that Quentin thinks this couldn’t possibly be worse, Margo comes rushing through the front door. She sees Eliot, lets out a relieved sound, and rushes towards him.

“Thank Christ,” she says.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!” Quentin intercepts Margo, diverting her course. “ _Not_ Eliot.”

It takes Margo a second for this to sink in. He watches her facial expression shift. At first she stares at him in confusion, not sure what he means. He uses his eyes to convey as much as he can, showing her how serious he is. She blinks a few times and her mouth slips open just a little bit. When she puts it all together, tears well up and begin to slide down her cheeks silently. She turns her face, inch by inch, until she’s looking at the Monster. If anyone could tell by looking that it wasn’t Eliot, it was Margo.

“I’m so glad you came,” the Monster says to her. “Saves me the trouble of having to hunt you down. I’ve got so much of that ahead of me already.”

“What is he talking about?” Margo asks.

“He’s, uh, hunting Gods? Right?” Quentin explains, trying to placate the Monster. Maybe if he can show it that they were willing to help, it wouldn’t kill them all. “Its vengeance for locking you in the castle.”

“They did more than that. And so did you.” The Monster lets out a chuckle and encased in Eliot’s voice, the sound is hideous. “You were all a part of it.”

The Monster raises one of Eliot’s hands, makes a motion with his fingers, and Josh begins to choke. Blood pours from his mouth and he staggers to one knee. They’re all helpless to do anything but watch the blood pool on the floor. The only one with a plan is Margo.

“I can give you Bacchus,” Margo says, and the Monster lets Josh go. It turns to her, intrigued.

She explains that she’s found Bacchus, that she can take the Monster to him, but only if it lets them all live. Its a bold play, but the negotiation works. The Monster even seems pleased with the plan, rising to its feet. The problem, it says, is that Bacchus might flee. Somehow, Margo has this covered. She walks to the chair the Monster has stood from, producing a vile of an unknown substance. Ambrosia, she explains, and the Monster rushes forward. Its enticed by the ambrosia, but Margo holds it back. They can use it, she says, to incapacitate Bacchus long enough for the Monster to carry out its vengeance.

Josh raises some hushed objections to the plan. Bacchus is his friend, and he isn’t eager to turn him over or betray him. If they go through with this, Bacchus will be killed. Quentin is ambivalent if he’s being honest with himself. He doesn’t have much sympathy for Gods. They seem to be distant and uncaring at best, and destructive and vengeful at worse. If Bacchus has to die so that his loved ones can live, he doesn’t have any problem with it. Josh, on the other hand, is reluctant.

As he expresses this, the Monster overhears their discussion. It thinks Josh’s relationship with Bacchus will be helpful to their plan, and its probably right. Josh looks like he might further resist, but the Monster points out that it could always just kill them if he doesn’t cooperate. Josh is sarcastic about it, but knows he doesn’t have a choice here. Knowing it’s won, the Monster asks where they’re going. Margo briefly describes Fillory, and then she, Josh, and the Monster disappear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Eliot POV_

The Monster’s threat about not playing hangs in the air. Its horrifying to hear his own voice when he’s not the one using it. It comes out smooth and gentle, but its menacing. Something terrible is about to happen. Eliot can feel it in the Monsters’ mind. Its uncaring, unfeeling and regards the other people in the room as insignificant to him. It _wants_ something, and killing Eliot’s friends is nothing to him, a simple nuisance.

As distracting as having his body controlled is, Eliot tries to focus in on whats happening. The Monster is walking in circles but turns back when it hears a sound. There’s a door and its opening. Margo rushes inside. Eliot is now even more terrified. All of the people he loved the most were now in the cross-hairs of an all powerful being.

“Thank Christ.” Margo is making a beeline for him, but Quentin stops her, keeping her at a distance from the Monster.

“Not Eliot,” Quentin whispers

Margo looks over at him, turning her head in disbelief. Tears begin to form in her eyes once she processes what Quentin’s said. Eliot thrashes internally, because he wants to say no. No, it is Eliot. He’s right there. But Quentin’s not looking at Eliot the way he usually does. That loving fond gaze he reserved just for Eliot is gone. Now he’s only looking at a monster.

_I’m here!_ Eliot shouts into his own consciousness. Nothing happens.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” his voice says. “Saves me having to hunt you down. I have a lot of that ahead of me already.”

“What’s he talking about?” Margo asks.

“He’s uh, hunting Gods.” Quentin’s voice is gentle as he fills Margo in.

Eliot realizes that Quentin is still in strategy mode. He’s calculating, trying to figure out a way save his friends. He’s trying to appease the Monster. Eliot’s body moves again and the Monster sits in a chair. Eliot can feel the Monster calculating, too. It uses his voice to talk again but its drowned out by panic. Its deciding how to kill his friends. Eliot yells again inside his mind as Josh begins to double over. Blood is pouring out of his mouth. The Monster is killing him.

“I can give you Bacchus!” Margo offers. The Monster’s power relinquishes Josh immediately and it stares at Margo. “You’re hunting God’s right? Well I found him, hiding in a place far away. I can take you there. If you let them live. _All_ of them.” The Monster considers this.

“Perhaps we can be friends after all,” it says. Eliot’s body stands up again.

“All I’m offering is a location. The rest is on you.” Margo takes a few steps forward.

“Knowing where Bacchus is doesn’t help me if he runs away, which he’ll do the second I show up. You see my problem, and how maybe its just easier to kill you all,” The Monster says. Margo walks forward again, this time heading towards the chair. She pulls something out of it and holds it up in the air.

“Do you know what this is?” Margo asks.

“Where did you get that?” The Monster rushes at Margo and for one terrifying second Eliot thinks its going to hurt her. Instead Eliot can feel it as his equilibrium pitches up. He’s dizzy and he can’t see. There’s a yearning desire in him, something burning and pulling. Its not him, its the Monster but he can still perceive the sensation.

“I didn’t,” Margo says. “But I know enough of it will mess up a God long enough for you to do whatever you need to do.”

“Excuse me, Margo? Quick talk?” Josh interjects dragging Margo away. Eliot can’t hear what they’re saying, but the Monster pipes up again.

“Great!” it says. “Then you’ll poison him. He’ll never suspect a friend. I could always kill you, it adds.

“Awesome. Great choices,” Josh says.

Moments later, he’s in a forest with Margo and Josh. Its Fillory. He can tell by the magical pollen floating in the air. He breathes in the opium and the Monster loves it. Its gleeful and childlike. Its excited to rip Bacchus apart.

There’s more talking between the three but Eliot quickly loses track of the conversation. There’s too much pressure on him and its making it hard to pay attention. Instead he focuses on trying to move. He has to be able to do something. The more he fights, scratches, claws, the worse it gets. The Monster isn’t even thinking about him. Pushing him further into his own mind is like a reflex for it.

Eliot watches Josh go, and then he’s alone with Margo and the Monster. It looks around, enjoying the scenery. Its serene and calm in a way, but its also very excited and impatient. Eliot hates the Monster, hates being possessed and continues his barrage of attacks against the pressure. He hopes that if he’s relentless, it will effect the Monster in some way. It doesn’t, because the Monster ignores him. Its possible that it can’t even feel Eliot fighting inside.

The Monster talks to Margo, reaches out and touches her hair, mimicking a motion Eliot had made a thousand times. He rages against it, trying to stop its touch. Its a violation of Margo’s space, a violation of their closeness. Margo stands stoic against it, unflinching. She’s still strategizing, and Eliot hears it as she asks to have him back. The Monster declines. It explains how much it likes Eliot’s body, and how it plans to utilize its importance to his friends. _Why would I ever leave it_? Hope dies in Eliot’s chest.

Sometime later, when Eliot has given up fighting for control of his body, Josh comes back. Eliot’s tired from struggling and he can’t pay attention to the conversation. He just wants to sleep. Was that even possible? It must be, because the next thing Eliot knows, its night and he’s crouching over someone. Its a man Eliot doesn’t recognize, but he can tell the Monster does.

This must be Bacchus. Eliot regains awareness just in time to watch the Monster plunge a knife into the God, tearing him open from the top of his torso to the bottom. Bacchus gasps and twists in pain, his eyes wide in shock. He doesn’t know Bacchus, doesn’t really care for Gods but its still gruesome. Eliot’s hand reaches inside the wound and digs around. His fingers clench around something hard, and the Monster yanks something out of him. The Monster doesn’t pay attention, but Eliot can see that Bacchus is dead.

The Monster is happy. It stands up again, leaving the body where it is and stares at the stone. It must decide on something because in the next instant it, Eliot, Josh and Margo are all back in that posh apartment. Eliot can see that everyone is there now, and Margo and Josh back away from the Monster towards the others.

Its not paying attention to them, still absorbed in the stone. From the top of his eyes, Eliot can see Quentin standing in the kitchen. He looks _terrible_. His eyes are ringed dark and they’re bloodshot. He sees Eliot, or rather, he sees the Monster and a pained look crosses his features. Quentin looks defeated and lost. Eliot can see past that. There’s something else in his eyes. Helplessness. Quentin wants to do something, but there’s nothing he can do. Eliot hopes he knows that, hopes he doesn’t put himself in the line of fire again. Its the only thing he can do. Hope.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad luck and bad news.

Chapter 3

_Quentin POV_

Terror seizes Quentin’s heart the moment Eliot disappears from view. The Monster has taken him, along with Margo and Josh, on its God hunt. Even though being around the Monster was terrifying, at least he could keep an eye on Eliot, assuming he was still in there somewhere. Quentin had to hold out hope, had to keep believing. It was the only thing keeping him going.

He trusts Margo to take care of Eliot. She’s smart and capable. That thought gives him at least some peace of mind, but worst case scenarios slam against his mind like a battering ram. The Monster could just kill Eliot, could change its mind on a whim and kill Margo and Josh. It could come back any moment to finish them all off. The alarming possibilities are endless, so Quentin has to push them aside.

As it is, he has new problems to deal with. Becoming himself again was in some ways a relief, but the new stress is overwhelming. When he was Brian, he only had to deal with being dragged around by the Monster, kidnapped in a way. Now he has to deal with the fact that the Monster is possessing his lover, and is threatening to kill every one of his friends if it doesn’t get its way. In addition to that, he has the Library and the McAllisters after them, and standing before him, Marina.

He’s never met her before, but if Josh’s words and Julia’s past history with her are anything to go by, Quentin doesn’t like her already. She lights a cigarette and cracks a beer, looking aloof and even annoyed. He can’t fathom what she could possibly want, and a little lost, he lets Kady take the lead.

“So, what the fuck Marina?” she says. “What do you fucking want? Are you getting paid?”

“Of course I’m getting paid,” Marina answers, “the McAllisters have a bounty on your heads, dead or alive. The real yous, not the witness protection identities. So, you can see how it would be profitable for me to get you back to normal.”

“What are they offering?” Kady asks.

“Three Deweys,” Marina answers.

“What the hell’s a Dewey?” Penny 40’s eyes narrow in confusion.

“As in Melvin Dewey, the most famous Librarian of all time. He has his own decimal system.”

“I think you’re being generous with the word famous,” Kady says.

“Okay, so in the new world order, there’s just enough magic in the air to keep the boring masses fat and happy. But you got an itch to do something bigger, you have to file a request with the Library. They decide if you’re trustworthy, and they give you a cute little battery in the shape of a coin. They put the faces of famous Librarians on there, but Dewey’s the only one people can remember. And Laura Bush but Bushes just never stuck.”

“All right, well we’ll pay the bounty ourselves,” Quentin says. He knows they don’t have time for this, knows Eliot, Margo and Josh are all in harms way right now, but he has to do something about Marina and the McAllisters. He can’t save Eliot from the Monster if he’s captured or killed.

“How are you going to get Deweys?” Marina flicks the ash of her cigarette.

“I don’t know, we’ll figure it out. We always-” Quentin starts.

“Sometimes,” Kady cuts him off.

“Most of the time, we do.”

“Fine. Five Deweys to make it worth the delay, and know that I have trackers on all of you, so if you try to run, it won’t go your way.” Marina slams down the rest of her bottle. “Don’t drink all my beer.”

With that Marina leaves them to it, and they’re strategizing right away. They decide they obviously need to do some reconnaissance to formulate a plan. Quentin can’t help but feel like a bystander. He’s not really being that helpful. His mind is still spinning out of control, sick with worry and anxiety. All he can think about is Eliot, and wherever the Monster took him. When there’s a knock at the door he nearly jumps out of his skin.

When he opens the door, Quentin isn’t sure he’s ever been more relieved to see anyone in his life. Julia is standing before him, and he instantly feels better. She throws her arms around him and they quickly catch one another up. Julia’s fake identity was a Brakebills student, and the irony is a little irritating. Fuck Fogg. Once Julia knows whats going on, they gather in the living room again.

Penny 40 takes the lead this time. While Quentin’s been talking to Julia, he’s been traveling around and when he comes back he has information. It turns out, that some rich, privileged Magician’s have black cards, unlimited access to magic. If they can steal one, they could get the Deweys. Problem is, a stolen card only works until its reported stolen, but Penny has an idea. He tries to get into contact with someone he knows is a counterfeiter. If they can create a counterfeit card, head into the Library, they can get the coins.

While they wait for him to arrive, Quentin grows impatient. Margo and Josh still aren’t back yet with the Monster and his hostage, Eliot. All he can really feel is stress. He thinks about the man he loves, how much he misses him. He worries about him, trapped in there. What was he going through? Was he aware? Was he… alive?

Quentin quickly shakes that thought from his head because, if Eliot’s not alive, then none of this really matters. Yes, he has to save his friends, and that is important. But after that? Once they’re all safe or something close to it? Then what? Find someway to live with the loss? No. That wasn’t an option. He was going to get Eliot back one way or another, no matter what it took. Eliot deserved another real full and beautiful life, not to be trapped and killed by a Monster from which he tried to save them all.

There had been a moment that Quentin was angry with his friends for bringing the gun, but in hindsight they had been damned if they did and damned if they didn’t. If they hadn’t brought the gun and shot the Monster, Eliot wouldn’t be possessed. But if they hadn’t brought the gun, the Monster would have likely killed them all on the spot. Instead, it slowed the Monster down just enough for that Librarian traveler asshole to get them all out of there. Eliot had saved them all, and now was paying the price for it.

Quentin blames the Library entirely. They’re the ones who interrupted their plan, right when it was so close to success. They’re the ones who must have fucked up the Bond, must have taken too long to do it. Even evil bastards wouldn’t have wanted to deal with a God power monster, but they had failed where Quentin was sure they would have succeeded. Everything they had worked so hard for, everything Julia had given up, was all for nothing. All because of the Library. And because of…

Alice. Quentin hasn’t even thought about her once since becoming himself again. He’s been too absorbed in what was happening right in front of him. Caught up in Eliot and in the danger he and his friends are in, he hasn’t had a spare moment for her. She was one of the main reasons they’ve ended up in this position to begin with.

Her betrayal stung, but maybe not as bad as it would have if he was still in love with her. Instead of hurt, Quentin was just angry. He can’t begin to understand the motivations for her actions. Had she been so afraid of herself that she was afraid of magic existing at all? Did she not care about any of them and how much they had given to the Quest? Why hadn’t she taken her concerns to the people that cared about her?

Alice was a complicated person, he knew that much. Still, her erasure of everything they had been through together was nothing but cruel. It was like Kady said. She had no right to make a decision for the entire universe no matter how intelligent and talented she was. Furthermore, her decision had cost all of them greatly. It cost them magic, it cost Julia her Goddesshood and it had resulted in Eliot being possessed. _That_ enraged him above all else. Forget magic, Eliot’s _life_ might be lost. For that, he doesn’t think he can ever forgive her. Perhaps if she had never gone to the Library behind their backs, their plan would have worked. Quentin supposed now they would never know.

He knows he has to put those feelings aside now. Staying on task, Quentin turns his attention back to the matters at hand. They have to take care of Marina, get the Deweys and get the Library off their trail.

Penny’s friend, Franky, finally arrives and to all of their surprise, a bird brings a sandwich to him. This is his luck, he explains, his discipline, and its the key to everything. He’s going to use his luck and his counterfeiting skills to get them inside the Library’s magical bank, but he needs things to get them started. A black card to create a fake one, and at least a half a Dewey to do the magic. There’s another snag though. He wants payment. He wants five Deweys. That’s _ten_ Deweys.

This was getting more complicated by the minute. Its decided Penny 40 and Kady will be the ones to snag the black card. With Penny’s traveling, they could pull that off in a matter of seconds. That was relatively easy. The hard part would be getting a Dewey to begin with, and apparently that’s where Quentin would come in. _Are any of you good at cards_?

Fuck.

Quentin has always had horrible anxiety, so this added pressure isn’t good for him. His mind is preoccupied with worry for Eliot. They’re still waiting for the Monster to return with Margo and Josh. Of course, if the Monster was going to reappear any minute, that would throw a huge wrench in their plan. They needed to move fast.

Penny 23 takes Quentin to the game of Push. Quentin’s played a similar game before, but now he would have to use magic in order to win. Quentin, generally speaking, is a loser, as Penny points out to him. He can’t think about that now. This is too important, there’s too much on the line. If Eliot were here, he would remind Quentin of the opposite. Quentin was smart, capable and he can do difficult and brave things. He would need to keep Eliot in his thoughts, rather than his own insecurities. So, he comes up with a plan.

He wins the first round, and then the next. On the final play of the final round, he puts that plan into action. He casts something at random, drains the remaining magic from the room. It dawns on his opponent what he’s done. There would be no cheating now, except for the ace Quentin literally has up his sleeve. Using his only other unique skill, the slight of hand he’s developed over the years, he slides out the final card, and wins the whole thing. He takes the Dewey, and Penny blips them out of there before anything can go haywire.

Of course, it couldn’t be as easy as that. Quentin’s job wasn’t over. A talisman had to be used to contain the bad luck to go in place of their good luck. The stuffed bear they’re going to be using would need to be held by someone to divert the luck. Julia, who is still sort of invincible, volunteers to take it, but her God power interferes with the magic. This is how the bear ends up in Quentin’s hands.

The bad luck isn’t great, but for the most part is easy to deal with. He struggles with eating, wiping his hands off and even going to the bathroom. With Julia’s help, he’s able to wrestle a giant boa that wraps itself around him. Some of it could be considered comedic, probably the lightest of all the things he’s needed to deal with in the last day. Of course, this doesn’t last.

The phone rings. Its his mother. He’s ashamed to admit that he hasn’t thought about his family yet either. He’s only had so much room on his plate. Now, it comes rushing back to him. His father, his cancer, and the fact that magic would bring it back. On some level, when he made the choice to bring back magic he knew it would eventually kill his father. At the time, it seemed distant, like something that wasn’t real. Now? Quentin knew his father would be sick again by now, but he didn’t know how sick. Was his mother calling to tell him he was sick again? Or was it something much worse? Why wasn’t his father calling Quentin himself? He lets it go to voicemail, hoping that if he doesn’t take the call, that the bad luck he has won’t effect his father.

At last, Penny 40 pops back into the room with Kady, still in their ridiculous disguises, and Quentin drops the bear immediately. The job is done, and they’ve come back with an extra victory. Two extra Deweys are in Kady’s hand and they can all breathe a little bit. They have enough magic to do a cloaking spell, to hide themselves from the McAllisters and the Library. Kady takes the bear and destroys it, and that appears to be that.

“Marina?” Penny asks.

“I’ll take care of her,” Kady answers. She shares a look with Penny 40, who takes her by the shoulder and the two vanish.

“Thank God that’s fucking over,” Julia says.

Of course, for Quentin its not over. He puts off making the call a little while longer. Settling down to dinner with his friends, he tries to ignore the horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. He’s able to get a full slice of pizza down, but half way through the second one he has to put it down. Julia looks at him a little concerned, but he shrugs her off. She knows what he has to do. He doesn’t call his mother back right away. First, he listens to the voicemail. About fifteen seconds into that voice mail, whatever is left of Quentin’s world falls apart.

He’s an absolute wreck, an hour later, still unable to call his Mother back. That’s when the Monster, Margo, and Josh, appear in the apartment living room. Quentin’s heart drops in his chest at the sight. There’s a mix of emotions. Relief that Margo and Josh are okay, horror at what state Eliot’s body is in, and a cold, helpless feeling. He wants to rush to Eliot, thrash the Monster until it lets him go, but that would be useless. As if she could read his mind, Margo shakes her head at him, and mouths “ _I got this_ ” at him. He’ll have to take that for now. He has things to take care of while there’s a relative peace.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Monster's reign of horror begins. Quentin grieves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic Violence

Chapter 4

Eliot POV 

After a few hours, a strange calm settles over the apartment. The Monster is still off in the living room while the others gather in the kitchen. Eliot can’t hear them and the Monster isn’t listening. Its too obsessed with the stone in his hand. Margo comes from somewhere behind him and the Monster looks over at her. She’s dressed in a fabulous blue outfit that looks beautiful on her. Eliot wishes he could tell her that.

“I have examined this over and over again, and it still won’t reveal itself to me,” the Monster says. “Why can’t I remember anything?” 

“I don’t know. Total drag, I get ya.” Margo is trying to be her usual snarky self, trying a different approach with the Monster. “But that’s what goes along with a human body. Aches, pain, can’t remember shit. And since you’re done with your whole deal, I was thinking-”

“What deal are you talking about?” the Monster cuts her off.

“We led you to Bacchus, you killed him. So now that we’re done-sies.”

“Don’t speak to me of done-sies! Only Bacchus is done-sies.” The Monster really is like a child, absorbing Margo’s language like a sponge.

“I’m just saying you got your vengeance. Might wanna try another body. Maybe a non-human one. I don’t know. See if it helps with the whole remembering thing.” 

A wave of relief washes over Eliot. Margo’s trying to save him, trying to convince the Monster to set him free. That relief is only brief, because before the Monster can say anything, Eliot already knows that it won’t release him.

“I’m good,” it says. And then there in another place again.

Its a park. Eliot might have been here once or twice but he can’t really say for sure where they are. It looks just like any other park in New York City. The Monster is walking and Eliot despises it for using him even more. His legs move one in front of the other without his permission. They’re alone in a more secluded wooded area and there’s only one other person around. A man is walking in they’re direction talking aggressively into his phone.

The Monster is still looking over the stone and doesn’t see the other man until their shoulders collide. The man stops in his tracks and whips around to look at him. He’s angry but the Monster is just confused. Eliot can feel his thoughts again. It considers the man just another bug that’s bothering him.

“Will you watch where you’re fucking going?” the man says.

Instead of answering the Monster flips Eliot’s wrist, sending the man flying into a nearby tree. He slams into it hard and his phone clatters across the pavement. No. The Monster is going to kill this man and there’s nothing Eliot can do to stop it.

The Monster uses its power to hold the man against the tree, like he did in the ruins. It walks over to him and looks him over, curious. The man struggles uselessly against the force. He looks up at the Monster, terrified. Then, the Monster reaches out Eliot’s hand, grabs the side of the man’s neck, and rips it open.

Blood pours everywhere, spurting all over his hands, chest, and face. Its warm and the scent makes Eliot nauseous. The man gargles and chokes grabbing for his neck as if it were possible to stop the bleeding. It takes only seconds, and then the man is dead. The Monster stares for a second, and then keeps walking.

Eliot is still in shock, what must be hours later. He has no way of keeping track of time, has no idea how long he’s been trapped in here. Unable to move, speak or fight, he thinks he might go insane. The Monster had just murdered an innocent man in front of his eyes. He had used Eliot’s hands to do it. The last thing the man saw was Eliot’s face.

He wants to cry again, but no tears come. Crying in his mind prison is more of a feeling than an action. The intensity of the guilt is too much to stand. Logically he knows the Monster had killed him, but it still felt like he had done it himself. The blood was still on his hands. The Monster doesn’t seem to care or have any concept of hygiene. It just continues to walk with the stone. 

With nothing to stimulate his mind except the Monster’s feeling-thoughts, Eliot drifts. He forces himself to not think of anything at all. He doesn’t think of Margo and how desperate her voice was, hidden underneath her casual demeanor. He doesn’t think of Quentin, heartbroken and devastated now. He doesn’t think of himself, alone and powerless. Eliot just watches as the world goes by in a numb haze. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quentin POV

After quite sometime, Quentin finally lifts his phone to return his Mother’s call. He hits the call button, and it rings. His mother picks up and her tone is calm and even, but he can tell she’s furious. She spits out a barrage of questions. Where has he been? Why hasn’t he been answering their phone calls? He’s able to come up with some quick half-truths. He’s been distracted, he tells her, hasn’t been using his phone much. He can’t tell her that he’s been someone else for months, didn’t even have his own phone. She balks at him, spits more venom and then demands he come to his father’s house immediately. Its so surreal that at first he feels nothing. But the anger in his mother’s voice rings in his ears. That’s what makes him feel the grief.

Julia grips his shoulder in sympathy, before passing him a drink. He takes it, downs it in one go, and sets to work on calculations for a portal. He doesn’t know if it will work, but there’s just enough magic in the air for a tiny short distance portal to New Jersey to open up. 

He steps through it, walking into the park he frequented in his childhood. Its closed now, and it had been a good option for the portal. There’s no one in sight. He heads in the direction of his father’s house on foot. Walking past the tiny playground, he can picture his father pushing him on the swing set, catching him at the bottom of the slide, and walking him across the park at the end of a long play session.

Quentin remembers Christmases, Birthdays, and Graduations, all the big stuff, but he remembers the little things even better. The way his dad would work so carefully to build his models. Tongue poking between his teeth, he would spread the tiniest lines of glue on pieces of planes. Quentin remembers breaking one of those planes. It was his mother who had been angry, was always angry whenever Quentin broke something. His father had tried to put it back together, but put it aside with a conspiratorial grin at his son. 

He thinks of him, holding his sixteen year old hand in the hospital, after his first failed suicide attempt. The look in his eyes hadn’t been one of disappointment, like Quentin had feared. The only thing his eyes held was love. His father didn’t understand his depression, never knew quite how to deal with it, but he was always there when it counted. He tries to remember if his mother had ever done such a thing. She hadn’t.

What she had done, was berate him, chastise him. He remembers being called an attention seeker, remembers how cold she had been. Driving to doctor’s appointments with her was probably the worst. The silence made how she felt obvious, but sometimes she would say things that dug under his skin, things about what she would rather be doing. She made sure he knew just how inconvenient his desire to die was to her. 

His father was always the one who was caring, understanding, and tried his best. Now, he was gone forever and the son he had tried so hard for hadn’t even been there to say goodbye. If he wasn’t still in shock, tears would be forming in Quentin’s eyes. It makes him want to die all over again. He shamefully pushes that thought aside.

The door of the house flies open when he knocks, and his mother steps aside to let him through with her hands on her hips. Whatever angry words she throws his way fizzle away as he steps inside. Looking around his dad’s house, his memory is everywhere. Quentin had grown up here, had spent more than half his life here. All he wanted now was to see his dad again, see him one last time. That opportunity was gone. The chance to even pay respects at his funeral was gone. All that remained was his guilt.

His mother was obviously not in the process of grieving. Much like many things in her life, she was treating this like another chore. After tearing into Quentin some more, and giving him a set of specific instructions for what to do with his father’s belongings, she’s on the phone to her girlfriend and walking off into the kitchen. A part of Quentin thinks that maybe she’s not mad because he missed the funeral, she’s mad that she had to do any work. That thought makes Quentin feel terrible, so he puts it out of his head.

Instead he turns his attention to the task at hand, which is almost impossible to do. He’s still worried about Eliot and the Monster, who come to think of it, could technically still show up at any time. It makes him worry for his mother, so he’s relieved when he hears her car start and pull out of the driveway. Its just him and whatever remains of his father’s memory.

He starts in the living room, lifting the dozen or so boxes stacked in the room. All of them are labeled “Donations”. Of course his mother wouldn’t want to keep anything. Quentin wonders if there is anything of his father’s that he himself should keep, but doesn’t really feel worthy of it. He’s been an awful son in so many ways. 

He starts with the pictures and models on the wall. There isn’t much so he makes short work of it. Next is his father’s office. This is where most of his model planes reside and it hurts just looking at them. He packs them away gingerly, afraid of braking yet another one of them, of braking anything else. He’s about halfway through the second box when the sound of a too familiar voice slides down his spine.

“Quentin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey if anyone's still reading at this point, it would be really awesome if someone could just let me know if its confusing or bad or anything. Thank you.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Monster tells a lie.

_Eliot POV_

Some time must have passed since Eliot slipped away, since the Monster had killed. He suddenly notices that he’s in a different place, snapped into awareness by the man in front of him. Quentin is there, in a room Eliot’s never seen before. There are boxes everywhere and lots of models and novelties. Quentin looks far past depressed. His lips are set in a thin line and dark shadows are seated beneath his eyes. He’s putting things in boxes and only slightly jumps at the sound of (Eliot) the Monster’s voice.

“Quentin.”

Quentin turns to face him, his body beginning to tremble. Eliot wants to reach out for him, wants to hold him. Quentin takes an unconscious step toward him, like he wants to do the same thing. There’s something terrible in his eyes. Its that same defeated look, but now the pain is more obvious.

“How- What are you doing here?” Quentin asks.

“I came to play. And also I’m going to need your help more,” the Monster answers.

“Okay, well,” Quentin says, “I can’t play right now. I’ll help you, but I have to do this first.” He’s adopted the strategy of just doing whatever the Monster wants. Its the only way to survive.

“What are you doing?” Eliot is relieved that the Monster doesn’t sound angry, just curious.

“I have to pack this stuff up, my- uh- my dad. He died.”

No. This can’t be possible, not now. Quentin has already been through so much, has just lost Eliot too, or at least thinks he might have. Eliot’s right here, but he can’t do anything. He can’t be there for Quentin, help him with the grief or comfort him in anyway. He wants to kiss Quentin, wants to tell him that he loves him.

“Oh.” The Monster either doesn’t care, or doesn’t understand. “Okay. We can play this game.”

Quentin doesn’t say anything else. He blinks a few times, before going back to work. Eliot tries to fight again, just for a little bit. If he could gain control for one moment, just to tell him that he loves him, maybe it would mean something. He has to at least let Quentin know he’s _alive_.

He watches Quentin work, and he can feel the Monster getting dangerously bored. It tracks Quentin’s movements with confusion. It believes this is a game. It doesn’t understand the situation.

“Are you done with the killing, yet?” it asks.

“The what?” Quentin doesn’t even look up.

“Your father’s dead, I thought perhaps you’d get angry and kill things. That’s what I’d do.”

“Its not really what people do,” Quentin says.

“You’re not going to kill anything?” When Quentin shakes his head, the monster says “Let’s go then. I’m bored.”

“Can I just have a few minutes to finish this? My mother will be furious if I don’t, okay?” Quentin pleads.

“This is important to you,” the Monster observes.

“Yeah it is.”

“This is a very interesting game, the loving your dead dad game. I don’t understand it,” the Monster says.

“Its not a game.” Quentin sounds defiant, and it’s scaring Eliot. He’s not just going along with the Monster. It worries Eliot for two reasons. One, the Monster might get angry and kill him. Two, Quentin might not care if it did. “It- there must be someone who’s important to you, who you miss.”

“I don’t remember.” An ache rises up in the Monster with these words, and Eliot wonders exactly what it does and doesn’t remember. “But perhaps you’re right. I could learn something from this. I’ll let you play this game. I’ll sit and watch. I won’t kill anything. I’ll watch you while you think about your dead father.”

Eliot’s heart breaks for Quentin. He’s been saddled with the burden of cleaning up his father’s things, a painful endeavor. He’s deep in grief. He shouldn’t have to have such a private moment while this Monster, this _thing_ was watching. It angers Eliot and he tries to fight again. He shoves hard against the walls of his prison, but its useless.

The Monster does sit and watch for a while, but its not a very long while before it starts to get bored. It hates being bored, and whenever it was bored it meant Quentin was in danger. It grows even more impatient, suddenly picking up a model airplane and hurling it across the room.

“Why did you do that?” Quentin shouts.

“More interesting.” It picks up another and slams it into the wall.

“No! Stop it!”

“I don’t understand, these belong to you now, do they not?” the Monster asks. Its confusion is genuine. It has no concept of sentimentality.

“Yes, they belong to me. What is your point? Why are you doing any of this?” Its a loaded question. Quentin isn’t asking about the planes. He means why is it doing any of this to them. “Jesus Christ.”

“Why does your mother have such strange power over you?” the Monster says.

“Because once when I was a kid I broke an ashtray. And now she still fucking thinks that I break everything. You’re parents never change how they see you.” Quentin’s looking at the other side of the room, eyes glued to the shattered plane.

“So then why does it matter?” the Monster asks.

“Because sometimes I think she’s right. Things break around me,” Quentin says.

“Then break them on purpose. They’re your planes. Maybe you’ll feel better.” The Monster lifts a plane, holding it out to Quentin, who shakes his head.

“Honestly? I don’t think I will. We can go.” Leaving the last box sitting open, Quentin turns to face the Monster, waiting for whatever comes next.

“Good.” The Monster pauses. “You’ll be more useful to me if you feel better, so you should know that your friend Eliot is dead.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Quentin POV_

“Quentin.”

There’s a brief flash of love and relief at the sound. God, he needs Eliot right now, but he needs to remind himself. _Not_ Eliot. Its the Monster and he forces himself to look at it.

Eliot’s body is a mess and he would hate it. His skin is slick with sweat and Quentin wonders why on Earth the Monster would be sweating, but that’s not really the worst of it. His long dark hair is a tangled mess. His shoulders are hunched and his posture is all wrong, stiff and bent. Something that looks like dried blood is still flaking off his hands, buried under his fingernails.

The Monster hits Quentin with question after question, confused at what he’s doing with his father’s belongings. Quentin explains as best he can, but the Monster is inept at emotion, is unfamiliar with any kind of love. It should make Quentin feel sorry for him, but it only makes him angry. If the Monster couldn’t understand love, why should it be allowed to deprive Quentin of it? Why should it be allowed to steal his lover from him, keep him within arms reach yet so far away?

He worries about Eliot trapped in there, wonders if Eliot’s aware, if he can see what’s going on. He thinks of addressing Eliot directly, hoping to let him know that he’s there and that he loves him, but decides against it. It might anger the Monster, so he lets the thought go.

Quentin can only hope that Eliot isn’t conscious of what’s happening to him. Its a much better thought than the idea of him being awake. Its also a much better thought than the only other possibility, that Eliot isn’t even alive. That’s too much for Quentin to take, so he continues shoving planes into boxes, a little rougher this time. He wants this to be over. He’s not looking forward to whatever horrid adventure awaits him with the Monster, but it would be better than having it stare over his shoulder while he picked up the pieces of his father’s life.

Suddenly, the Monster hurls one of the planes across the room, and Quentin shouts at it. It throws one more before it stops. It suggests Quentin join in, but he has no desire to do so. It wouldn’t make him feel any better, not really, so he declines. Rather than fight against the Monster, he gives up on his father’s possessions and agrees to help. That’s when the Monster throws something else.

_Your friend Eliot is dead._

It tosses it out like its nothing, like it doesn’t even matter, like _Eliot_ doesn’t even matter. Quentin supposes that, to the Monster, he doesn’t. But Quentin has just shattered inside, every little part of him broken into thousands more. Its too much, far too much. He has to let himself go numb to the feeling or he won’t survive. He wonders for a moment if he even wants to, but some sort of self preservation kicks in, and he’s obeying the Monster’s demands.

At a nearby diner, Quentin can barely begin to grapple with Eliot’s death. The Monster forces him to eat. It wants answers, so Quentin throws out whatever he thinks might get it to leave, and take Eliot’s corpse with him. He doesn’t want to look at him anymore, can’t stand seeing his deceased lover’s body moving about in mockery for one more second. It’s making him sick.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliot tries to keep it together. Quentin and Julia plot.

Chapter 6

_Eliot POV_

_You’re friend Eliot is dead._

_What?_ Eliot can’t be hearing that right. The Monster says it with no empathy, just states a fact and Quentin must believe it because he freezes. He looks over at the Monster and his lower lip shakes just a little. It takes a minute, but his face transforms into a mask of apathy. Eliot knows that look. Quentin is shutting down because its too much. He opens his mouth but the Monster answers his unspoken question.

“I felt it the moment his soul died. It only hurt for a second. I promise he didn’t suffer,” the Monster lies. Even if Eliot were to die right then, he had already been suffering. “You’ll come around. I know it.”

Then they’re in a restaurant, a diner. A waitress comes up to the table. The Monster prompts Quentin to answer and when he doesn’t it flicks Eliot’s finger and Quentin hunches over in pain. Eliot pounds at the Monster, trying to stop it in vein.

Quentin orders food but the Monster gets nothing. Eliot assumes it doesn’t need to eat But, oh God. Eliot _did_ need to eat. Would he be imprisoned in his own body while it slowly starved to death? No. The Monster hadn’t had any water either but Eliot was still alive. Something in its power must be taking care of Eliot’s basic functions, stopping the need for them at all.

The Monster berates Quentin while he eats, asking him all sorts of questions that he didn’t have any answers for. It wants to know about the stone and about Gods. Quentin can barely swallow his food. His face is blank. He’s being forced to eat, grieve Eliot, his father, and play the Monster’s games all at once. Finally he looks up.

“Well, it looks, old. Like, beginning of civilization old,” Quentin says.

“And where is that?” the Monster asks.

“Uhhh...” Quentin thinks for a moment. “Mesopotamia. I guess.”

“That’s very helpful, thank you.”

Then, Eliot’s gone again. ‘No!’ he howls in his mind. He wants so badly to stay with Quentin. He wants to watch over him, see that he’s okay. Eliot has no idea what Quentin will do when the Monster’s not around. Its obvious that Quentin is in no state to be left alone. Eliot knows enough from what Quentin’s told him. He’s very capable of hurting himself.

They’re among some ruins again. The Monster is thinking hard about what it wants to do next. Eliot can feel rather than hear its questioning. It wants more than anything to know what the stone is. But, unable to move or speak, Eliot finds it hard to focus again. There’s nothing to ground him, nothing to steady his mind as it spirals out of control. How long would he be like this? Would he be like this forever? Was anyone going to set him free?

The answer was now, no. Quentin believed Eliot was dead, so there was no reason for him to try to save him. He would soon tell Margo about Eliot’s ‘death’ and she would stop trying to save him, too. It made Eliot feel hopeless. He was trapped and for an untold amount of time. Would the Monster keep his body forever? Eliot hoped that instead it would kill him. Death sounded much better than being paralyzed, in his mind prison forever.

The Monster continues to blip around the world and Eliot loses track of what he can see through his eyes, loses track of everything again. Its impossible to focus, and as he drifts into the nothingness, he can feel his sanity slipping away.

The human mind needed things to keep it occupied. It needed contact with other humans, it needed touch and communication. It needed the comforts of food and sleep. Eliot could have none of those things. The only thing he had to entertain him was his own mind, and Eliot’s mind was not always the greatest place to be. He could spend this time thinking over all his mistakes, how much of a fuck up he was, but it was better not to think at all.

Eliot spends the next few hours practicing not thinking. He tries it like a meditation. Chanting mantras to himself, it helps to calm him but only a little. His fears continue to creep in. The idea of being trapped like this threatens his mental state.

He’s heard things, read things about solitary confinement and how much it can fuck with the human psyche. Eliot tries not to think about this too much. Those types of ideas make him panic. The very idea of being imprisoned for one more moment, let alone a day, a week, a year is terrifying. He knows at some point he will lose his mind.

Thinking of Quentin helps him to a degree. The man he loves is out there, broken and grieving. Eliot has to fight, has to continue to try to break free. If he can just tell Quentin that he’s alive, maybe he can alter the course of the future. Maybe Quentin would be given some hope, and maybe Eliot might be saved.

He doesn’t struggle against his bonds right away. Instead, he fights to focus on whats happening around him, what the monster is doing. Its standing in some city. It looks like Italy, even if Eliot has only been there once. Its ignoring all of the people walking by and is focused on the stone. Eliot feels the Monster’s power surge and can see the runes carved into it lighting up. The Monster is very pleased and Eliot feels like he’s going to be sick if the Monster teleports one more time, but it does.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Quentin POV_

Quentin stops eating as soon as the monster is gone. In fact, he thinks he might vomit. Eliot was dead. Eliot, who had loved him in more than one timeline, was gone. The man who had spent an entire lifetime giving Quentin his love and devotion, would never draw another breath. Quentin would never again speak to the man he loved more than anything. The grief crushes in on him. It strangles him, curls around his stomach and he has to swallow down the bile that makes its way up his throat. There was physical pain in his chest, radiating from his heart, spreading throughout his soul. It’s too much pain to bear, so Quentin shuts down.

He’s never had very much control over his emotions, is usually terrible at reigning them in, but now he clamps down on them, pushing them deep inside himself. He tries to control his breathing against his collapsing lungs. Trying to wash away the gaping hole opening up inside him, he lets himself go numb. He stands up from the booth. He has to get out of this fucking diner.

Quentin doesn’t wait for the check. He throws two twenty dollar bills on the table and rushes out of the door. He has to get back to the apartment, has to find Margo and tell her. She’s the only one who could even come close to understanding this loss. He doesn’t want to have to be the one to tell her, but he has no choice. She would be devastated, but she had to know.

Outside, he flags down a taxi. The drive seems too short, but the dread makes the time fly by. When the elevator door opens up, and he pushes open the door to the apartment. Inside, he’s greeted instead by Julia, who looks both excited and apprehensive. She must have found something out about her goddess power but he can’t bring himself to care. Julia slows her approach when she sees his face.

“Q?” she says. He doesn’t answer right away.

“Hey, Jules.”

“What the fuck happened?” Julia asks.

“Its...” Quentin stops. He doesn’t want to say it out loud, but there’s no way around it. “Its Eliot. He’s dead.”

“What?” Julia jerks back. “How?”

“Monster,” Quentin mumbles. “It says Eliot’s dead. Maybe it was the possession, maybe it killed him, I don’t know. But he’s gone.”

“Oh God, Q!” Julia throws her arms around him. He’s not able to hug her back, his arms laying limp at his sides. She pulls back. “I’m… sorry, Q. I know how much you loved him. I don’t know what else to say.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t either.” Its the only thing Quentin can think to say. Julia glances to the floor, nervous, before meeting his eyes again.

“So, um, I found some things out,” Julia says, after an awkward beat.

“Okay,” Quentin says. He finds himself eager to talk about, to think about anything else.

“I got a visit from Iris. The Goddess. It… didn’t go well. She says I have no power, but I’m indestructible or something. I’m still a Goddess, but I just don’t have any of the juice.”

“Thats… good?” Quentin isn’t sure if it is, but he’s wants to be supportive for Julia.

“I guess so, I don’t know. I know that’s not that important right now, but its just what I know,” she says. “But, um, the other thing is… I know of a way to stop the Monster.”

Quentin makes a guttural sound in his throat. His blood boils at the thought of the thing that stole and killed Eliot. Stop it? He wants to rip it apart, piece by piece. At this point, he’ll settle for anything. Somewhere inside, he knows they’re still partly responsible for its escape, and for anyone else that it killed, so he has to do what he can.

“How?” he asks.

“Iris, gave me a stone, from Blackspire. She says that if we bleed the stone, and dump it on the Monster, it’ll short circuit its power. Then they’ll come and take it away.”

“Jules,” Quentin says. He looks at the ceiling. “Drawing blood from a stone is a saying for a reason.”

“I know, but, I’ve already been researching. I’ve got a spell.” Julia ushers him into the kitchen where the stone is sitting next to an open book. A woman is standing in the kitchen that he’s never seen before.

“Um… hi?” Quentin tries. The last thing he wants right now is to be around a stranger. He wants to keep his pain private.

“Q, this is Shoshanna,” Julia says. “Shoshanna, this is my friend Q. She’s been helping me with my Goddesshood.”

“Oh, um, hey. Thanks, uh, for helping Julia.”

“Anything for my new Goddess!” Shoshanna says. “I don’t trust that bitch Iris, but if I’m a very devoted follower.”

“Um, great.” Quentin looks down at the spell, and back up at Julia. “Okay, so, I guess we should get started?”

“Started doing what?”

Quentin jumps out of his skin at the Monster’s words. It’s teleported into the apartment, and is staring at them expectantly. The rage spikes again. He wants to rush at it, scream at it, provoke until it kills him. But, Julia is standing right there and it would likely kill her too. He has to keep it together for his friends, not to mention the entire world. He’s without another choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any feedback would be great. I’d like to know if I should keep going with this thing. Thanks for reading.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julia, Quentin and Alice form a plan.

Chapter 7

_Quentin POV_

“Started doing what?” the Monster asks.

It hovers there, staring at them. More emotions than Quentin can handle flood his mind. As he looks at Eliot’s face his gut twists. He misses him so much. The pain is so all consuming that he has no answer for the Monster’s question. Thankfully, Julia is there, and she doesn’t miss a beat.

“Uh, research!” Julia says. She tries to sound as bright as possible, hoping to placate the Monster’s curiosity. It must work, because the Monster doesn’t appear angry. “We’re doing research!”

“I’ve also been doing research.” The Monster steps closer to them, holding up the stone. “When I focus my power into it, it does this.” The runes etched into the stone begin to glow with a soft light.

“That’s, uh… great,” Quentin says, before shutting his mouth. He knows he sounds unconvincing, and doesn’t know if he can say anything else without giving away his true feelings. He’s looking at the thing that murdered the man he loves. Its all he can do not to scream. Rather than upset the Monster, and risk Julia’s life, he lets her take the lead.

“Yeah, that’s great!” Julia agrees. “Speaking of stones, that’s what we were researching. Where to find the next one.”

“Oh,” the Monster says, pleased. “Wonderful. Where do we begin?” Julia shares a look with Quentin. They have to think of something and fast. They need to get the Monster out of the apartment. Julia is on it.

“Well, we need more books, so we should go somewhere to get them,” Julia explains. “There’s a great library. We could go on a field trip. To Brakebills.”

“A field trip,” the Monster repeats.

“Yep,” Julia says, “and we should go right now.” She heads towards the Monster flanked by Shoshanna.

“Quentin?” The Monster cocks its head to the side. “Aren’t you coming?”

“I uh… I don’t feel very good. I’ll catch up in a little bit,” Quentin says. Thankfully, the Monster accepts that excuse, because in the next second it, Julia, and Shoshanna are gone.

Quentin grips the kitchen island in both hands, bowing his head. Things are moving too fast. He hasn’t had time to even process Eliot’s death, and he’s already mixed up in yet another death-defying scheme. All he wants is to curl up in a bed, and never do anything else again.

Instead, he grabs a large glass jar from the cabinet, picks up the rock and his feet carry him to the table in the living room where he sets up the rock over the jar. He spends the next several hours robotically casting the spell over and over again.

Taking a break, he calls Margo. Its a terrible way to tell her, over the phone, but he doesn’t have time for anything else. When she picks up, he briefly explains what the Monster said about Eliot’s death. She doesn’t react. Her eerily calm voice informs him that she has to go back to Fillory. Quentin knows she must be destroyed, but she focuses in on him. She tells him to be careful, to take care of himself, and to come to Fillory as soon as he can.

He gets back to work, keeping himself numb, letting go of any thoughts of Eliot. He’s about to give up when a small slick of blood appears and one tiny drip falls into the bottom of the jar. He’s staring at the floor when there’s a knock at the door. He doesn’t want to answer it, but again his body is moving on autopilot. When he opens it, Alice is standing there.

As Quentin slams the door in her face, he realizes that he hasn’t thought about her, even once, since he regained his memories. He’s had too many other things on his mind, far more important things. The McAllisters, his father, and above all else Eliot, have kept him so occupied that she was the farthest thing from his mind.

Now, just a single look at her face reminds him of everything. Her betrayal comes to the forefront of his mind. At Blackspire, when that betrayal was in progress, he hadn’t been angry. He’d been more saddened and confused. Though he had his suspicions at the time, he thought he could trust her, at least to some extent. It had hurt, but that was all. Of course, that was before the consequences of that betrayal came to light. Now Quentin isn’t just angry. He’s furious.

If Alice hadn’t teamed up with the Library, their daring plan might have succeeded. Magic would be back, the Quest would have been worth something, and Eliot wouldn’t have been fucking possessed. _No_ , Quentin thinks. Eliot wouldn’t be _dead_. Thoughts of Eliot strike his heart and he works to push them down. He can’t deal with Alice right now and turns to walk away, but she knocks again. His shoulders drop in defeat, and he opens the door.

“Q, I’m sorry, but you have to-” she starts.

“What do you want, Alice?”

“I need to talk to you, its important,” she says. “You’re going to die.”

Quentin could have laughed at this. He was sure to get himself killed trying to stop the Monster, but that wasn’t going to stop him from doing it. If he was being honest with himself, at this point, he didn’t really care if he died. He wasn’t necessarily suicidal, but what did he really have to live for at this point? Eliot was gone, his dad was gone, and his entire world was never going to be anything other than a giant mess. What difference would it make?

To further Quentin’s ambivalence, he didn’t trust Alice at all. She could still be working for the Library, could just be here to turn him in. As far as he could remember, she hadn’t had her identity erased. He couldn’t remember her having that disgusting potion forced down her throat.

“Where have you been, Alice?” Quentin asks.

“At the Library, but-”

“Of course you were.” Quentin shakes his head.

“Q, you have to listen to me,” Alice says. “It wasn’t like that okay? They locked me up and imprisoned me, because I broke my deal with them. That’s not important though right now. I read your book in the Library. You’re going to die.”

“And why should I believe you?” Quentin asks.

“Just let me in and I’ll tell you, okay?” Alice begs.

“Fine.” Quentin steps aside, letting her and shuts the door behind her. “Now, explain. How do I know you’re not lying?”

“I read your book,” Alice says. “You’re bleeding a stone from Blackspire, right? To pour it on the Monster? It doesn’t work. You spend three days bleeding the stone, but when you go to pour it on him, he catches you and breaks your neck.”

“Okay, well, I don’t know what you want me to do.” Quentin drags a palm down his face. He’s so tired.

“Don’t go!” she says.

“Look, if we don’t do this, Iris is going to kill Julia and the Monster’s going to keep killing people. I don’t have a choice.”

“There has to be something we can do. If you die, Iris will kill Julia anyway and the Monster will get away,” Alice says. Quentin thinks that over for a bit.

“Okay, so if we change one thing, it could change the whole outcome right?”

“Theoretically,” Alice answers.

“Okay, so what if I bleed the stone faster? Try to do it today?” Quentin suggests.

“Q...” Alice looks uncomfortable.“Let me bleed the stone, I know I can do it.”

“Alice, I don’t need, or want, your help. I want you to go away.”

“Okay, look,” Alice says, and pulls a giant book out of her bag. “This is the world book. There’s a spell. It will tell me where I’m supposed to go. Let me do this, and I’ll do the spell.”

“And you’ll go?” Quentin asks. “Wherever it says?”

“Yes. Just let me help?” she pleads.

Quentin wants to argue. He wants to tell her that he doesn’t need her help, but that wouldn’t be true. Alice was the best magician out of all of them, and if anyone could bleed the stone that fast, it would be her. She’s right.

“Fine,” he says, gesturing toward the table where the stone was still held in place by the jar.

There’s no way he’ll ever trust Alice again, but he doesn’t have any choice but to accept her help. The Monster had to be stopped one way or another, and if trapping it forever was the only revenge for Eliot’s death, so be it. All he has to do is stay mentally sound long enough to do it. Its the only thing left he can hope for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Eliot POV_

The Monster lands them in the apartment. Quentin and Julia are sitting around the island in the kitchen, talking something over. They jump up at the sound of the Monster’s voice. Though its difficult to concentrate, Eliot sees Julia smoothly cover up whatever they were talking about. To his relief, the Monster isn’t suspicious, its only curious. Eliot struggles to keep up with what’s happening. Through the haze of possession, he can’t quite hear everything they’re saying. From this distance, he can only pick up bits and pieces, until the Monster approaches them.

“When I focus my power into it, it does this,” it says. The stone lights up.

This close, Eliot catches on to Quentin and Julia. They’re in strategy mode, and a woman Eliot doesn’t recognize is hovering in the background. Eliot is smart enough to know that they’re up to something, planning something, but the Monster is oblivious. Its youthful mind thinks everything is a game and it just tries to keep up with everything. Quentin says something that Eliot doesn’t quite hear, but Quentin’s emotionless inflection breaks his heart. Whatever their planning, Julia springs into action, covering up for Quentin’s flat, toneless voice.

“We can go on a field trip. To Brakebills” Julia says.

“A field trip?” The Monster has no concept of such a thing, so Julia explains a little further. Once it understands the plan, the Monster teleports Julia and the unfamiliar woman to the Brakebills library. The wards around the place give with ease and its like walking into a bubble.

Eliot drifts again. The Monster picks up a book and despite having never read before, is able to understand the words on the page. To Eliot, the words are blurred all together. Tiny details and fine print escape Eliot’s awareness. It scares him. Is this the result of possession or is he losing his faculties altogether?

Eliot can’t look away from the words or close his eyes and its making him dizzy. He focuses inwards again, trying not to see, hear, or think. It works for a while, and he’s able to tune everything out. However, he isn’t able to stay checked out, and its not long before he’s once again overwhelmed by his predicament.

The terror returns. The idea of being trapped forever pushes up against the barrier he’s carefully tried to constructed around his mind. He doesn’t want to lose his mind, his ability to feel, or himself. More than that, his entire life was going to be lost. He’s still so young, is supposed to have so much time ahead of him. Now, that’s been snatched away. Instead, he’s been sentenced to a living death. He’d be alive, but wouldn’t exist. If his friends succeeded, he’d be in Blackspire for eternity. That was better than the Monster killing them, and he’d rather face his own fate then see them die. Still, he feels sick at the knowledge that he will go insane. Eliot can already feel himself slipping away, knows that one day, he’ll become nothing.

Suddenly, he’s overcome by a deep, profound sadness. The sense of loss grips him, like he’s grieving for himself. He cries, but its still not an action. No physical tears manifest, its just his soul shaking and sobbing. He tries to let go again, but it’s no use. He’s stuck there in his misery, unable to get away.

After some time, with nothing but vague visuals and sounds, he finally does slip away. Its almost a relief. Anything was better than having to deal with this. His thoughts disappear, his emotions fade into nothing, and for the moment, Eliot ceases to exist. Though he knows it won’t last, he embraces it. He clings to the emptiness. Its the only thing he has left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, any feedback will be appreciated, though I am going to continue with this :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peaches and Plums

Chapter 8

_Eliot POV_

The next time he comes to, Eliot’s only vaguely aware that some time has passed. They must have been in the Library for hours, though it’s still light outside. Eliot takes in his surroundings. They’re in a park, near a playground. There are people everywhere and Eliot worries the Monster might kill someone, but it’s still flanked by Julia and the unknown woman. He sees Quentin standing across from him, waving the Monster over. Eliot decides that while he misses Quentin’s long hair, he finds his new, shorter cut enticing. It shows more of his beautiful face. He wishes he could touch it.

Quentin looks anxious and upset, like he’s about to do something he really doesn’t want to. Every muscle in his body is rigid, his features are set unpleasantly, and he’s doing a terrible job of hiding it. Eliot catches a flash of blonde out of the corner of his eyes and... is that Alice? Where did she come from? No jealousy rises in him, just concern. He doesn’t want Alice to get hurt, even if he was angry at her betrayal. She must be helping Quentin with whatever they’re planning, because she’s off to one side where the Monster can’t really see her. It’s too focused in on Quentin.

“Quentin,” the Monster greets. Eliot hates the way it says his name.

The man in question nods in response and beckons them over. The Monster seems to sense something is wrong, because it suddenly gets angry. It looks over at Alice, who seems obviously nervous and it narrows Eliot’s eyes. Eliot can sense its emotions and its intentions. It’s going to kill. It turns back to Quentin and Eliot knows. It’s going to kill him, now.

_No!_ Eliot fights again with everything in him, all the love he holds for Quentin. It isn’t just scratches or punches this time. Eliot reaches for his telekinesis. He knows they succeeded in turning magic on and hopes it’s online now. He gives a mighty push and can feel the Monster stumble.

The Monster battles him for dominance. It crushes Eliot back down into himself, serving only to make him try harder. It’s distracted by Eliot now. He hopes it’s enough to give Quentin some time to get away. However, Quentin doesn’t seem concerned. He just stands there. Whatever hair he has falls onto his temple.

Eliot thinks back to their life together. Remembers their first kiss as two men in love, that beautiful night under the torches, how pleasantly surprised he was. Being with Quentin was heavenly. Their emotional connection fortifies Eliot’s efforts. More memories rush to him. Quentin wrapping his arms around Eliot, when Eliot quietly discloses the physical and emotional abuse he suffered as a child. Quentin, being the only person to ever truly see Eliot. Quentin telling him for the first time that he loves him, at the Mosaic and in this life.

The memories of their night before Blackspire flash across his mind, how that night turned out so beautifully, how they were finally able to confess how they felt. The feeling of his lips, the touch of his hands, the sensation of their skin against one another. Oh, yes. He loves Quentin more than anything.

Eliot gives another forceful push against the Monster telekinetically, and the Monster stumbles again. It’s making the Monster more angry. It wants to be allowed to do whatever it wants and what it wants right now is to kill Quentin. Eliot worries for a moment that it will kill him before he’s able to save Quentin, but none of that matters now. His own life may already be lost, so if saving Quentin is the last thing he does, so be it.

He shoves again and this time the Monster loses its footing entirely. Eliot doesn’t wait for another chance. He rushes at the Monster, forcing it away and it lands on its back. For a minute, Eliot’s mind clears. He’s looking around the park with clarity and he can feel control coming back to him.

The Monster rears up again, an all powerful creature filled with nothing but rage. Eliot’s love is more powerful. He throws up a shield that the Monster pounds at, but that’s all it takes, and Eliot is free. It’s a beautiful feeling, to be able to move again. He looks for Quentin, managing to remain standing. Quentin watches in confusion as he tries to right himself.

“Q,” he says, able to use his own voice at last. He could almost laugh. “Q!”

“Hey, um look,” Quentin takes a step back. He still thinks he’s the Monster.

“It’s me!” Eliot walks towards him. “It’s Eliot!”

“No.” Quentin shakes his head. “Bullshit.”

“No, Q, it’s _Eliot_.”

“No. No more games.” Quentin stands his ground, still in disbelief. Eliot grabs for the only thing he can think of.

“Fifty years,” he says. “Who gets that kind of proof of concept?”

“What?” Quentin asks, finally stopped. Eliot is within arms reach.

“ _Peaches and plums_ , mother fucker!” He pushes at Quentin’s shoulder, hoping with urgency that he can get through to him. “I’m alive in here!”

A wave of fresh air brushes past them, and it’s not the wind. Eliot knows he only has minutes, only seconds before the Monster is on its feet again. Quentin looks at him and says his name like a prayer. He knows it’s him.

“Eliot?”

Then the Monster _is_ standing again and it crushes Eliot down with renewed vigor. Eliot falls backwards, goes tumbling into himself. He struggles but that’s it, it’s all he can manage. He’s exhausted again and, if he had a physical body to feel it, he would be in pain. Blackness bites at his consciousness. He feels Quentin grab him, his body twist and then nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Quentin POV_

It takes Alice only half an hour to get the spell to work. A great deal of blood fills the jar, enough to spill onto the Monster. Quentin calls Julia and arranges for them to meet at the park. She was good with the naive Monster. Knowing how much it likes Quentin, she uses him as a lure, and the Monster agrees to go.

He and Alice head to the park. The walk is silent. There’s nothing to say between them anymore. If Quentin weren’t so overcome by grief, he might have unloaded his anger on her. Part of him wants to dig in, berate her for what she did. The rest of him was in too much pain to care.

When they reach the park, Quentin feels sick. He’s going to have to see that _thing_ wearing Eliot. He’s going to have to look into his dead lover’s eyes, and doesn’t know how he’s going to deal with that again. Quentin hates the idea of Eliot’s body being locked away forever, no funeral, no goodbyes, but at this point they have no other options. He sees Julia and the Monster walking up to them.

“Q, I’m gonna pour the blood on him, you just run,” Alice whispers.

“No.” Quentin pushes her away. “Stick to the plan, they’re coming.”

The Monster approaches and the nausea boils up. Eliot’s tall, lanky body Quentin knows so well is lumbering towards him in that stiff, awful way the Monster walks. He hates it, hates the Monster, and can’t wait to be rid of it. He just wants this to be over.

“Quentin.” The Monster lifts a hand into the air, approaching him. He waves back, hoping to distract it, but to his horror, it looks over at Alice. Its eyes narrow and it returns its gaze to Quentin. It’s angry now, and it’s going to kill him anyway. _Good_ , Quentin thinks, _then it really will be over_.

Instead, the Monster stops his approach a few feet away. Its eyes close and it shifts to one side, stumbling on its feet. Its arms go stiff, stretching out a little to the sides. Then, it rights itself and looks back at Quentin. A slow, half smile crosses Eliot’s features.

“Q!” the Monster says. “Q!”

“Hey, um, look-” Quentin isn’t sure what to do. Hopefully, he can buy Julia and Alice some time to get away. The Monster’s going to kill him, but this sudden shift in demeanor is strange.

“Q, it’s me! It’s Eliot!”

“No.” Quentin blinks rapidly and takes a step away. What kind of game was this supposed to be? “Bullshit.”

“No, Q, it’s _Eliot_.” The Monster approaches him again, this time getting close enough to touch. Quentin’s getting angry now. What kind of sick, twisted trick was it trying to play on him? Mocking Eliot like that, pretending to be him?

“No. No more games,” Quentin says.

“Fifty years. Who gets that kind of proof of concept?” This shakes Quentin down to the core. The Monster couldn’t possibly know about that.

“What?”

“Peaches and plums, mother fucker!” An arm, Eliot’s arm, flies out and shoves at his shoulder. “I’m alive in here.” _Oh my god_ , Quentin thinks. _Eliot_.

“Eliot!” Quentin takes a step forward.

He wants to lunge at Eliot, throw his arms around him, kiss him, anything. Most of all he wants to tell him that he loves him. He opens his mouth to do so, but Eliot’s brow knits together and his eyes drift shut again. It looks like he’s in pain, and his body stiffens. It’s just then that Quentin notices Alice approaching, the jar of blood stretched out. He grabs for Eliot, just in time. The blood pours down Quentin’s back, and Eliot disappears beneath his hands.

When Quentin pulls back around, Eliot’s nowhere in sight. He looks at the astonished and frightened faces of Julia and Alice. The Monster could show back up at any second and kill them. Instead, a different voice speaks behind them.

“You fucked it up,” Iris says. “I knew you would.”

“Look,” Julia starts, but Iris’s hand lifts into the air. She’s going to kill Julia.

In one fluid motion, Iris’s hand comes down, slashing through the air. In that same moment, Shoshanna dives in front of Julia, and a wide gash rips open across her torso. She falls to the ground, dead.

“Look what you did,” Iris says to Julia, before lifting her hand into the air again. A hand wraps gently around her wrist, pulling it down.

“Iris.” The Monster is standing behind her, leaning into her ear. “Fancy seeing you here. I’d like it back now, please.”

It grips her by the shoulder, pulling her back onto the hand it’s using to tear her back open. After a gruesome moment of watching the Monster dig around in Iris, it pulls its hand out, producing a blood soaked stone. It’s the same shape and size of the other one. The Monster tugs it to its chest, happy. It pushes Iris’s body and it hits the ground with a thud. Clutching the stone, the Monster spends a second enjoying his victory, before turning its attention to them.

“You tried to trick me,” it says.

“No! It uh, the plan, it worked.” Alice looks at Quentin. “Right, Q?”

“Who is this now?” the Monster asks.

“Right,” Quentin says, catching on, “the plan. It was a trap. We got Iris for you.” The Monster tips its head to the side.

“You did this… for me?”

“Yeah, and here’s the best part.” Julia sniffles as she she pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket. “We didn’t want to show you until you had the piece from Iris, but, we found this. It says those stones? They’re building blocks. Parts to a body. Is it yours?” She hands the paper over and the Monster curls a hand around it.

“Impressive,” it finally says, before disappearing.

Now that the tense moment is over, emotions overcome Quentin. Relief, joy, and terror. He’s relieved that Eliot’s alive, ecstatic about it. Yet, he’s terrified. Eliot was still being held prisoner by the Monster, which meant his life was still in danger. Right now. He had to come up with a plan, and he was going to need help. He turns to his friends.

“Eliot’s alive!” he says.

“What?” Julia, who has been crouched by Shoshanna’s body, stands up to look at Quentin. There are tears shining in her eyes, but she quickly wipes them away.

“He’s alive. He just talked to me,” Quentin explains.

“Q,” Alice says, “I know you want to believe that, but isn’t it possible the Monster was just messing with you?”

“No,” Quentin shakes his head. “You don’t understand. He said something, something only Eliot would say. The Monster doesn’t understand humans like that. I’m sure it was him.”

“Okay,” Julia says. “That’s great, Q. But problem? The Monster’s still out there, and oh yeah, Shoshanna is dead and her body is right there. Iris is right there. We should get the fuck out of here.”

“Hold on,” Alice says. “There might be enough ambient to cover us.” Alice bends down by Iris’ body and stretches her hands out. She casts a few tuts and the body glimmers like hot pavement before fading away. She turns and does the same thing to Shoshanna.

“Where did you send her?” Julia spits out. “And what the fuck are you even doing here?” Everything seems to come back to her, what Alice had done and what it cost Julia to fix her mistake.

“Just… away. Julia… I’m sorry.” Alice hangs her head, wrapping her arms around herself. “For everything. I know… I know what you gave up… I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean for any of this happen.”

“Yeah, sure,” Julia says, unconvinced. “Can we just not? I’m going for a walk, I’ll meet you back at the apartment, Q.”

“Okay, Jules, be careful,” Quentin says to Julia’s retreating back.

“Q,” Alice says. “I am sorry. Really.”

“Yeah, you know what? I don’t really want to do this either. Let’s just… go.”

The walk back to the apartment is also silent, but far more optimistic. Quentin has hope now. Eliot is alive, which means he has a reason to fight. He misses Eliot so much right now. Being so close to him, only to have him snatched away again was painful. There wasn’t even time to say anything, and it leaves Quentin aching inside. Eliot’s words meant everything, hearing him really speak meant everything. It was enough to give Quentin the spark he needed.

He’s still trying to focus on that as he and Alice step through the apartment door, but he’s still going to need to deal with her. She’s responsible for Eliot’s possession, among so many other things. Some part of him is wrestling another over how he should handle this. He isn’t ready to forgive her, but Quentin doesn’t want to hate her, so he doesn’t let the truth consume him. He opts for neutrality. Inside the apartment, he strides around her, heading straight to the World Book sitting on the kitchen island. Alice comes around the other side, and watches as he pushes it towards her.

Alice looks up at him, sees his set jaw, and starts to perform the spell. She tuts something he doesn’t recognize over the book. There’s an awkward moment while they wait, just staring at it. Finally, it flips open and a tiny yellow light appears on the page. Alice peers a little closer at it, squinting her eyes in confusion. Modesto?

Quentin honestly doesn’t care where she goes, but he’s equally confused. What could possibly be there? The thought is brushed aside when Julia strides in through the door carrying some take-out. She gives Alice a glare before flipping her off, stalking off into another room.

“Does she know that I just saved your life?” Alice says.

“No. I never thanked you for that. If the Monster hadn’t seen you, maybe Eliot wouldn’t have had time to break free, and he would be gone.” Quentin rubs his hands over his face. “If the Monster’s building a body, maybe there’s a way to save him.”

“You’re going to help it?” Alice’s mouth hangs open a little bit.

“Do you see another way?” Quentin points out.

“So what, your team Monster now?” she asks.

“I’m team Eliot.”

“Q, I can help, Just let me stay,” Alice pleads.

“Alice,” Quentin says. “You partly saved Eliot today, and you may have saved my life. But you can save my life fifty times and it’s not going to change anything between us. I loved you. Maybe you couldn’t trust that.” He closes the book, shutting it with a soft thump of finality. “It’s done. Goodbye Alice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know how I'm doing. It would be greatly appreciated, and thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Graphic Depictions of Violence, Gore

Chapter 9

Alice doesn’t say anything else. She looks like she might cry, but looks away, grabbing the book and tucking it into her bag. Quentin watches her go out the door, and some of the tension drains out of his shoulders. That’s one less thing he has to worry about. This might be the last time he ever sees Alice, and he doesn’t how he should feel about that. He _should_ feel more than he does, but there’s an empty hole forming inside of him. Alice was just one of the many things that’s fallen into it.

He finds himself sitting there for a while longer, staring at the counter. He’s exhausted, but he would feel guilty sleeping. Eliot was still out there, trapped, in danger. He should get to work finding the next stone right now. Still, his eyes burn and they’re barely open. He probably looks horrible. The look on Julia’s face when she comes into the room is confirmation of that.

“Jesus, Q,” she says. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he lies. “Just thinking.”

“Okay, well maybe you should do some of that thinking in a bed,” Julia suggests.

“I can’t, Jules,” Quentin says. “Eliot’s out there, I have to save him. I have to find the other stones.”

“You want to help the Monster build its body?” Julia sounds as incredulous as Quentin expected.

“Well, think about it,” he says. “If the Monster has another body to take, it might leave Eliot.”

“Q,” Julia says, but stops, biting her lip. She switches gears. “Whatever you want to do to help Eliot, you can’t do it if you don’t get some sleep.”

“Jules...”

“I mean it, Q,” Julia says. “You can’t help Eliot if you can’t even stand up. Go.”

“Okay, yeah, fine.” Quentin relents.

Quentin’s legs feel heavy as he trudges up the stairs. Now that he thinks about it, he can’t remember the last time he slept. Maybe it would be a good idea to get some rest. He can look at it with fresh eyes in the morning. Right now, he can’t even conceive of finding another God, let alone where to start looking for one.

He pushes open the door to the room he claimed as his own and flops down onto the bed, fully clothed. The only thing he removes is his shoes, kicking them to the floor. The bed is big and comfortable, but feels cold and empty. His hand brushes along the sheets on the other side of the bed.

Eliot should be here. Quentin thinks of his warm presence, of how neatly he fit into Eliot’s arms. Sleep at the Mosaic had been far easier with Eliot there. Since then, he’s only been able to share one night with him, when Quentin was at his worst. After the Depression Monster, Eliot had stayed with him, holding him through the night. His eyes water as the memories fill his mind. Eliot had been so concerned about him after he’d been dragged so low, had known exactly what to say. It gave Quentin renewed vigor to finish the Quest, and a sounder footing on which to place his self-worth.

It makes him miss Eliot even more. He thinks of the very last time they were in a bed together, the night before Blackspire, and the forming tears finally fall. After Quentin decided to take the place of the knight, he and Eliot had argued over it, an argument that ended beautifully. He can remember every word.

_“Why would you want to leave us? To leave me?” Eliot asks._

_“I don’t, El,” Quentin says. “I don’t want to leave, but if this is the only way...”_

_“It’s not the only way, Q.” Eliot cuts him off. “I just said that. We will figure this out. But we have to do it together. That’s how we’ve gotten this far.”_

_“I understand that, I do. But I just solved all of our problems, and a little appreciation might be nice!” Quentin snaps._

_“Appreciation?” Eliot scoffs. “How am I supposed to appreciate you giving up, when you promised me you wouldn’t?”_

_“It’s not giving up, El,” Quentin says. “It’s succeeding. We have a chance to really do this thing, to really save magic and-”_

_“Fuck Magic!!” Eliot says again. “It’s you that matters, Q. You’re the one I care about.”_

_“Why do I matter so much more, huh?” Quentin asks. “Why? Why?”._

_“Because, I’m in love with you!” Eliot nearly shouts._

_“What?” Quentin freezes._

_“I’m in love with you,” Eliot says. “I love you. After everything? After our lives together? Yeah, I fucking love you.”_

_With purpose, Quentin crosses the distance to him. He places his hands on Eliot’s face, and gets close, so close. Their mouths barely touch, just a brush._

_“I love you,” Quentin says against his lips, then kisses Eliot._

Flashes of them making love cross his mind. Confessing their love and expressing it physically was such a beautiful moment. He wanted more of those moments, wanted the man he loved right here with him. Instead, he lay there shivering and alone. It makes him sick to think that somewhere Eliot is without him as well, trapped and possibly afraid. Quentin is holding out hope that Eliot isn’t aware of what’s happening to him. He can’t begin to imagine the alternative. He has to save him.

He wipes the tears off his face and gets under the covers, with new determination. The more he slept the better equipped he would be to save Eliot, so he forces his eyes closed. Allowing the exhaustion to consume him, he drifts off.

The following morning, Julia is waiting for him downstairs. A bowl, some cereal, and a carton of milk are sitting on the counter, presumably for him. His stomach agrees with Julia, so after he grunts at her in greeting, he sets about preparing to eat. Julia watches him with a strange look on her face. It’s a mixture of concern, and something else. Quentin knows her. She’s about to say something she rather wouldn’t.

“So,” she says, jumping right into it, “last night, you were talking about helping the Monster.”

“Yeah,” Quentin says. “I think it’s our only option here.”

“I don’t know, Q,” Julia says. Quentin’s heart sinks. Was she going to try to talk him out of this?

“If we help him get the stones, we can get him out of Eliot. It’s a good plan.” Quentin knows he does not sound convincing at all, but he has try. This would be a lot easier if Julia helped.

“Unless we build him an indestructible god body, and it makes him more powerful,” Julia points out.

“Well, he’s already pretty murderous” Quentin says. “It can’t get much worse.”

“You say that like we can just risk people’s lives,” Julia says, disapproving.

“We’ve taken down God’s before.” Quentin hopes that will mean something, but Julia shakes her head.

“And we end up losing every time,” she says. Quentin takes a breath.

“It’s _Eliot_.” Quentin doesn’t have a better argument. He knows it’s weak in the face of Julia’s logic, but something in Julia’s expression shifts. “Right now, we can’t fix everything, but I think we can do this.” Julia thinks this over for a minute before nodding.

“Okay,” she says. “For now, we help the Monster, but at the same time, we also figure out what our next move’s going to be.”

“Thank you,” Quentin says, looking her in the eye. He means it. He’s grateful. Julia was strong, smart, and resourceful. Her help increases their chances at success.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I guess I’m just worried. I can’t help you if...”

“You’re helping a lot, already,” Quentin says.

“I was a Goddess, and now I’m just your friendly neighborhood bulletproof vest.” Julia sounds dejected, and Quentin feels for her. After everything she’s been through, she deserves her Goddesshood.

“I mean, you would be a very high level X-men,” Quentin says.

It’s easy to fall into their usual banter, and it actually feels good. It’s been all darkness and gloom for so long, laughter and joking feel foreign. They quip back and forth for a minute, before Quentin digs into his breakfast. His stomach has been empty since yesterday morning’s nausea inducing diner breakfast. He discovers that he’s starving, and it feels nice to eat in peace.

Using what Julia can remember from the paper given to the Monster, and some of the books from Brakebills, they quickly deduce that they’re on to an Egyptian God of some kind of yellow fruit. With no other resources, they decide to follow their only lead; a new museum exhibit. It’s a long shot, but with nothing else to go on, they decide it’s worth looking into. With the little ambient magic they have, they’re able to pick the locks on the museum, and they’re in. Everything is going according to plan until Quentin catches sight of the Monster, which has suddenly appeared in the room.

“Quentin,” the Monster greets in its awkward stilted way. Its sudden presence startles Quentin so badly he backs up into a piece of pottery that shatters when it hits the ground.

It looks horrible. Sweat is coating Eliot’s hands and face, and his body is tipped awkwardly to one side. His arms are hanging at his sides, and a glass bottle is dangling from one hand. Somehow, it’s wearing a different shirt then before. It glances down at the shattered vase, with a ghost of a smile.

“Whoopsies,” it says, tilting even further to one side as it steps towards them. Its feet come up too high with each step, and then it stumbles.

“Are you… drunk?” Julia asks.

Quentin can’t bring himself to look at it anymore. He turns away, gripping the side of the nearby table, jaw clenching in frustration. The Monster has kidnapped Eliot, and is now putting untold amounts of alcohol through his liver. This was not good. What the Monster says next, makes matters even worse.

“This body hearts tequila when I'm happy, when I'm sad, when I'm bored because everything is taking too long, meaning you,” it says. “Relevant story. I was in a road, and I almost got hit by uh… big fat truck! But I wouldn’t have felt anything at all because tequila is my friend.”

Quentin’s head whips around. The Monster was drunk and had almost gotten Eliot killed. Quentin’s heart to turns to ice with fear. They had to get this thing out of Eliot, and fast. There was no telling what other ways it might put him in harms way. Julia speaks where Quentin can’t, keeping things in motion.

“Um, so, great news,” she says. “We’ve made good progress, finding that… part of yours? Um, you wouldn’t still happen to have that paper I gave you?”

“Oh.” The Monster puts one finger to its lips, eyelids drooping with the intoxication. “I… misplaced it.”

“Do you know anything about an Egyptian God, of yellow fruit?” Quentin says when his words come back to him. The urgency of the situation forces him to speak, but he still can’t look at the Monster.

“I’m not at all helpful like this, am I?” it observes.

“What do you think?” Quentin says, unable to keep the anger out of his voice.

“You seem stressed, by your vast and obvious limitations,” the Monster says. Quentin actually laughs at this, a half snarl. “Why don’t we just ask someone who was there?”

The Monster touches a nearby coffin, and it jolts into motion. It shakes and jerks as something inside it pounds at it. All coherent though drains away. Did the Monster just… resurrect an ancient corpse? It has, because the lid flies off the coffin and a literal mummy sits up and climbs out. It’s wrapped head to toe in white cloth, similar to stereotypical portrayals in old movies. It stands there looking around at them, before it says something they can’t understand, muffled through the cloth. It sounds like a greeting.

“Hello, mummy friend,” the Monster slurs. Quentin’s brain is still catching up, but again, Julia is faster.

“Um, hi,” she says. “We uh… we’re sorry to bother you, but… do you know anything about an Egyptian God of yellow fruit?”

“And my stone,” the Monster adds. “I want my stone.”

The mummy mumbles something else, but it bows its body which they take as a ‘yes’. It starts talking again, but they can’t make out much of what it’s saying. Julia holds up a hand to stop it.

“Thank you, but um… it’s kind of hard to hear you,” she says. “Perhaps you could write it down?”

She and the mummy look around the room, presumably for paper, but all they come up with is a giant board and a dry erase marker. The mummy seems happy to oblige, making Quentin’s head spin even more. This was ludicrous, but he’s seen and experienced stranger things. He just has to go with it. The mummy starts writing on the board but it’s in the only language it knows, hieroglyphics.

“Um… we can’t really read that. Can you?” Julia looks to the Monster, who has sunk down onto a ledge, barely able to stand anymore. It shakes its head and shrugs, tipping the bottle back into its mouth.

“I got it,” Quentin says, thinking on his feet.

He pulls out his phone and opens an app he’d downloaded a long time ago, a visual translator. He quickly enchants it to be able to read any language, grateful that there’s enough ambient to do it. He holds it up, following along as the mummy writes, reading it aloud.

“Oh, uh, okay, the yellow fruit. It’s a mandrake root, and we are looking for… Heka, the God of Magic and Medicine. It looks like he’s got one of your stones.”

“Let’s go kill him.” The Monster sits up from the ledge, leaning forward. Quentin is relieved when it doesn’t fall forward and hurt Eliot. He turns his attention back to the mummy, reading further.

“He’s already dead… and looks like he was buried in the Temple of, uh, Esna? Which was… looted shortly after.”

“And where is it now? My loot?” the Monster asks. The mummy makes another sound and shrugs its shoulders. It doesn’t know. “Yes, this is very disappointing. Figure it out, before I get more angry. I need to find someone to kill.”

The Monster disappears, and Quentin is both relieved and terrified. On one hand, he’s glad to be rid of the it. He hates it, hates the way it moves Eliot’s body, mocking him. On the other, he’s worried. Now that it was gone, he can’t keep keep an eye on it, won’t know if it’s hurting Eliot. He has to find a way to stop it from drinking or stumbling into traffic. He can’t do that if it’s not around.

With nothing else to say to the mummy, and no way to return it to its original state, they leave with a short goodbye. The mummy doesn’t even seem put out, and Quentin has to roll his eyes at the absurdity of it all. They sneak back out of the museum and head back to the apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Eliot comes to, he’s _drunk_. He himself is sober but he feels the familiar spin of being overly intoxicated. While his ability to think is unaffected, his body is off kilter and threatens to tip over. Eliot can feel that the Monster is drunk in every way. Its head is spinning and its power is all over the place. It’s less like a solid pressing force and more like a sticky web, covering everything that Eliot is.

Focusing through the haze, he sees Quentin again. He’s looking at the back of his head and Julia is sitting next to the Monster. They’re working on something and Eliot is surprised to see that just ahead of them, through the alcohol induced fog, there is what appears to be a fucking _mummy_ writing on a giant glass board. It looks like something out of a movie, and Eliot thinks he _must_ be hallucinating now. His time imprisoned has finally driven him insane. Yet, he isn’t sure that’s true, because Quentin and Julia seem to be interacting with the creature.

The Monster lifts something to Eliot’s lips and he can taste the tequila on his tongue. If it were possible, Eliot would have thrown up. He has no idea if the Monster even has any limitations in this way. The Monster wouldn’t die from alcohol poisoning, it would surely take more than that, but Eliot could die from it. Briefly, he hopes he does.

Whatever their little group is trying to achieve seems to have failed because the Monster’s boredom turns to rage again. It says something that Eliot can’t make out, and then the room disappears. It’s replaced with the park again. The Monster is looking to kill.

It finds a family, spread out in a secluded area, having a picnic. _No_. To his horror, he can see that a man and a woman are doling out food to two small children. The Monster could kill them all with a thought, but Eliot can sense it wants something more than that. It wants to _feel_ the blood. It crosses the field to them, and the man looks up.

“Can I help you?” he asks.

The Monster doesn’t answer. It grabs him up by the shirt collar, hoisting him into a standing position. The man’s body sags as the Monster lifts him off the ground. It throws him several feet away and starts in on the woman. It hauls her away from the children, who are cowering and crying. The man stumbles to his feet and rushes at the Monster. He screams weakly for it to stop, but the Monster plunges one of Eliot’s hands into the woman’s chest and pulls out her heart. It lets go and she slumps to the ground, dead on the spot.

The man reaches the Monster but he’s stopped, held away by the Monster’s power. He’s crying and begging for the Monster to spare the children, screaming for help. At their father’s command, the two young children begin to run. They’re screaming and crying, too. If anyone could hear, there was nothing they could do to help anyway. They don’t get very far. Eliot cries, begs, fights, but with a flip of his own hand the Monster breaks both of their necks. It almost satisfies the Monster but it’s not done yet. It pulls the man the rest of the distance between them, looking him in the eyes, filled with glee at his tears and pleas. It uses its power to slit open the his gut, tossing him to the ground. The Monster watches as the man’s hands fly to his gut, trying to keep his organs inside, but they slide out and within seconds he’s dead.

The Monster looks around at the carnage, finally done. It’s satisfied whatever murderous rage it felt. It moves away from them, and Eliot realizes he had murdered four people with the bottle still in his hand. He tastes the tequila again. For Eliot, it’s too much. For the Monster it’s not enough. Seeming to sense that it shouldn’t be nearby when the bodies are found, the Monster teleports them again, this time to another part of the park. It sits down on a bench, and pulls out the stone.

Eliot is in pieces. He’s still crying inside his mind, begging for the Monster to kill him. If the Monster can hear Eliot’s thoughts, it ignores him in favor of the stone. He’s confused as to why it hasn’t killed him already. After successfully breaking through to Quentin, Eliot was certain the Monster would have killed him, would have been done with him by now. Yet for some reason, it’s letting him live. Perhaps it wants to torture him, force him to watch as it murders its way across the world. Maybe it needs him alive for his body to still be inhabitable. Whatever the case, Eliot wishes for death now, wishes for any way to be relieved of this pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any feedback would be appreciated. Should I keep going?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Monster almost kills Quentin. Eliot can only watch.

Chapter 10

The Monster continues to relax on the bench, and Eliot continues to suffer. His inability to move, the most horrifying thing at first, now fades to the background. All he can feel is the guilt, the horror at being forced to watch as that family was ripped apart. With nothing to occupy his thoughts except for the atrocity, he lets himself drift again. He welcomes the nothingness that he sinks into. Eliot stops thinking, stops feeling, stops being.

Still, the Monster’s thoughts drag him out of his state of disassociation. It’s angry again, and Eliot doesn’t think he can handle it if it kills again. Instead, he can see that the bloody bottle of tequila is empty. The Monster hurls it aside and it shatters on the pavement nearby. It likes the feeling, likes being drunk and it wants more. It wants something stronger. It teleports and they’re in the apartment again. They land in a bedroom, facing the dresser.

The Monster falls to its knees and starts tearing open drawers. It searches frantically for something, and Eliot doesn’t know what at first. At last, it wraps his hands around a bottle of pills, triumphant. Relief washes over Eliot. This would finally be the end. The Monster would take too many pills, and Eliot would die. It was all he could hope for at this point, but before the Monster can get it open Eliot hears something behind him. It’s Quentin’s voice.

“What are you doing? Stop!” He rushes forward, rips the bottle from the Monster, sending the pills scattering across the floor. “Jesus.” It raises Eliot’s hand and with a twitch sends Quentin flying back. He slams into the wall behind him.

Eliot has to fight, knowing the Monster wants to kill Quentin again. However, it’s too distracted to do that right now. It begins to pick up the pills from the floor as Quentin struggles to his feet.

“Those pills can kill you!” Quentin says.

“I’ll take a new body,” the Monster tells him. “I’m bored.” Eliot is torn. Part of him that wants so much to die, for it to just be over. Another stronger part of him wants to stay, wants to fight for Quentin, has no idea what the Monster will do next. It turns out that it’s Quentin’s turn to fight for Eliot.

“You kill Eliot, and you can forget about us helping you,” he says and it’s pure determination. The Monster drops the pills, kicks the bottle and stalks towards Quentin.

“Eliot. Eliot. Eliot.” It says. Eliot can feel its jealousy. It wants Quentin to be his friend, can’t understand why he won’t be. It’s angry that Quentin only cares about Eliot. “Why do you care about him so much?”

“Because I do.” Quentin’s face is set with resolve. He loves Eliot, but won’t say as much to the Monster. It wouldn’t understand. “You kill him and we are done. I swear to god I am serious.” The Monster steps closer. Eliot can feel the sweat on his skin, can smell the stench of his unwashed body. “I will abandon you, and I will die trying to burn you to the ground.”

“That’s cute.” The Monster is both amused and enraged. It wants to kill Quentin, and any affection it has for him is tossed aside. “But I’m strong.” It wraps one of Eliot’s hands around his neck. “And you’re weak.” Eliot’s other hand comes up to grip Quentin’s throat. _No. No! NO!_ Not like this, Eliot thinks. Not with his own bare hands. He fights again, calls on his telekinesis, but this time the Monster is ready for it. It brushes him aside like a fly.

“Break my bones.” Quentin says. The Monster tightens its grip and there’s a cracking sound. “And strangle me.” Quentin begins to choke. “Too tired to care anymore.”

“Q,” Julia says, but Quentin isn’t listening. He’s staring into the Monster’s eyes, not backing down in the slightest.

“You hurt him, you take one more drink, take one more pill, and you can build your body on your own.”

The Monster tightens its grip again, but is stopped. It considers this for a moment. Eliot can feel it turning this over in its mind. On one hand, its desire to rip Quentin apart his overwhelming. Another more rational side of the Monster, if it has one, knows it needs Quentin’s help to get what it wants. It decides on the latter, releasing Quentin’s neck.

“Fine,” it says with a childish huff. “I’ll take better care of the meatsuit. But you don’t have to be such a baby about it.”

Eliot can’t see Quentin and Julia anymore, because the Monster turns around and walks away. Eliot’s soul is warmed. Quentin loves him so much, is fighting so hard for him. Instead of searching for a way to stop the Monster, he’s searching for a way to save Eliot. If Quentin is fighting, shouldn’t Eliot be?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They dig back into research, spending most of the day and night scouring through books and the internet. At every turn they hit a wall. How were they supposed to know who looted a very specific grave, 5000 years ago? There weren’t exactly records of ancient thievery. Quentin sits back, defeated, and runs a hand through his hair. Julia tries to comfort him, is in the middle of saying something when a loud bang from the other room interrupts her.

He slides open the doors and finds the Monster on its knees, frantically yanking open desk drawers and digging around in them. It throws things over its shoulder until it finds what it’s looking for, producing a small pill bottle. Quentin can’t read the label from here, but it can’t be anything good. The Monster doesn’t know about or understand dosage. It could easily take too many, could easily kill Eliot. No.

“What are you doing? Stop it!” Quentin lunges for the bottle, tearing it out of its hands. It breaks open and the pills scatter everywhere. “Jesus.”

Without even looking at him, the Monster flips a hand up, barely moving a few fingers, and Quentin flies backward. He slams back into a table, knocking the lamp off it and smashing his head against the wall. His ears are ringing, but he has to stay focused. The Monster is already scrambling around, picking up the pills. Quentin has to stop it.

“Those pills can kill you!”

“I’ll take a new body,” the Monster mumbles. “I’m bored.” This, Quentin can not allow. He struggles to his feet.

“You kill Eliot, and you can forget about us helping you,” Quentin says, reaching for his only leverage.

At this, the Monster stands up. The pills fall from its hands, and it hunches its shoulders up, bowing its head. It glares at Quentin, walks towards him, one menacing step after the other.

“Eliot. Eliot. Eliot,” it says. Yes, Quentin thinks. Eliot. “Why do you care about him so much?”

“Because I do.” Quentin doesn’t bother trying to explain that he loves Eliot to the Monster. It would never understand. “You kill him, and we are done. I mean it. I swear to God. I will abandon you, and I will die trying to burn you to the ground.”

He doesn’t know where the words are coming from. They’re just pouring out of him of their own accord. His anger and love for Eliot must be fueling his actions, his desire to go to any lengths to save Eliot, even if that means dying. The Monster stalks closer, twitching one side of Eliot’s mouth into a half-smile. It gets up in Quentin’s face.

“That’s cute. But I’m strong,” it says. Terror should be taking hold of Quentin as the Monster wraps one hand around his throat. He should be afraid, but instead he tilts his head up, defiant. “And you’re weak.” Another hand on his neck.

“Break my bones,” Quentin says, and he hears the joints in his neck crack. “And strangle me.” The Monster tightens its grip. The truth only occurs to him as the words make their way out of his mouth. “Too tired to care anymore.” He is. He’s tired. Julia makes a sound, but he ignores her. “You hurt him, you take one more drink, one more pill, and you’re on your own.”

It’s a standoff. The Monster glares at Quentin, boring into his eyes. It’s shaking with anger, strengthening its hold even more, but Quentin doesn’t back down. Threatening the Monster with the only thing he can think of is all he can do now. He waits. The tension is thick, and a long moment passes before the Monster makes up its mind. It relinquishes Quentin, arms dropping to its sides. It takes a step back, looking chastised.

“Fine,” it says. “I’ll take better care of the meat suit. But you don’t have to be such a baby about it.”

Before Quentin can say anything else, the Monster turns and stalks away, sulking. Though the moment is over, a tension has settled in, fueled by adrenaline and pain. He won that battle, but for how long? They had to move faster. When he turns, Julia is looking at him with wide eyes.

“What the fuck, Q?” she hisses. “What the fuck was that?”

“I had to make it stop,” Quentin says.

“It could have fucking killed you.”

“Yeah, well, he didn’t,” he points out.

“Q...”

“Can we just drop it? We have to get back to work.”

They resume their research for a few more hours before Julia forces Quentin into bed. When he steps out into the living room, he’s glad to see that the Monster is gone. It probably wouldn’t like them taking a break. He has know idea when it will return, doesn’t know how much time is left. He lays awake thinking about this for a long time before finally falling asleep. He dreams of Eliot, of his warm smile and soft lips. When he wakes, its with renewed vigor. He was going to do this, no matter the cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to whoever's reading and thank you so much for the comments!  
> I hope this chapter isn't too repetitive. If it is let me know. I just wanted to get out both perspectives of that scene.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mentions of attempted sexual assault. 
> 
> Just a quick note from the prequel: In this universe Quentin never slept with Poppy. She tried to coerce a very vulnerable Quentin, and he had to physically push her away. Just so people know what’s going on with that.

Chapter 11

Inside, Eliot’s soul is shaking. Between the maddening paralysis, watching the Monster slaughter people and almost kill Quentin, he still wants to die. He cries more. He wants this to be over, in whatever form that ending may take. Perhaps Quentin will set him free. But, Eliot wonders, what would he even be freeing? What was even left of Eliot at this point? It would be better if Eliot were to die. That would set Quentin free, too.

More time passes. More people die. The Monster blips around the world, conducting a search of its own. It looks for Gods and when it fails, it looks for someone to slaughter. Each murder seems worse then the last and Eliot struggles to shut it all out.

The Monster does other things. It watches people, a lot. It wants to know about them. The strongest thing it feels besides its desire for revenge is loneliness. Eliot guesses it’s from being locked away in the castle for so long. It wants friends, so it tries to learn about humans. The curiosity is enough of a drive that the Monster doesn’t kill everyone it meets.

Sometimes, he just talks to them, using Eliot’s voice in that strange stilted way. It asks them questions, and if they do well enough, they live to talk about it. The Monster learns things from people, watches as they hug, kiss, and talk. Eliot can feel it yearning for companionship, but rarely does anyone live long enough for it to experience it.

Eliot drifts further away. He’s more than familiar with the symptoms of withdrawal, and knows it’s happening to him right now. His body feels terrible. It’s disgusting, sweating and it smells. He wonders how anyone can stand to be around him, though it’s not like any of them have a choice. He finds himself regaining some semblance of consciousness, when Quentin’s sleeping form swims into view.

In their other life, Eliot loved to watch Quentin sleep. He’s a quiet, deep sleeper. Listening to his slow, even breaths would lull Eliot into a comforting sense of security. Knowing the man he loved was laying at peace beside him was one of the best feelings in the world. In this life, after finding out that Quentin loved him back, Eliot had hoped to do a lot more of that. This was not how he pictured that happening.

Eliot’s disgusted by the Monster. It was already violating him in every possible way, and now it was violating Quentin. It was leaning too far into his space, disrupting the only moments of peace Quentin was allowed to have. As if he could sense that he was being watched, Quentin’s eyes open and he blinks his way into consciousness.

“Because of you,” it says, “I stopped doing anything fun to this body, so why are my insides full of angry ants?” Eliot can’t help but agree. The withdrawal is gnawing away at him.

“Well, you’re probably going through withdrawal, from drinking, drugs...” Quentin says.

“More drugs would help.”

“No,” Quentin says. His voice is firm and he sits up. The Monster leans in closer, hanging just behind Quentin’s ear. He turns and it’s obvious he can barely stand to look at the Monster. At Eliot. “No drugs. We have a deal.”

“That you would help me find a God and that I wouldn’t hurt this body anymore. But your eyes were closed, so, not helpful. No deal. Yes, drugs,” the Monster says. Eliot thinks that might be nice, to stop the withdrawal, maybe numb him a little bit. Still, he has to stay focused. He’s pained that Quentin can’t even have a few moments to sleep. It must be taking everything out of him to keep Eliot alive.

“No, look, I found some leads, okay?” Quentin says.

“I give you a mummy and you give me guesses. The mandrake God is dead. Finding his piece should be easy.” The Monster isn’t angry right now, but it is bored. It wants what it wants.

“I just need another day. Please,” Quentin pleads.

“Fine,” the Monster agrees after a moment. “There’s a man on TV who deserves my wrath. I’ll be back when I’m done with him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To Quentin’s horror, the Monster disappears for days, and then for weeks. He doesn’t like to think about what it’s been doing out there and what’s happening to Eliot. The Monster should be back to check on his progress, but it never shows up. It doesn’t make sense to him. The Monster couldn’t possibly have died, it was too powerful. Eliot could be dead, but that didn’t make sense either. The Monster would have shown up in a new body. It finally comes together two weeks later, when Quentin is in the middle of an impromptu nap. He’s still been looking for the stone, still researching even in the Monster’s absence. He’s lying on the couch when the book slips out of his hands onto his chest, and he falls asleep. He wakes to the feeling of someone watching him. It’s the Monster leaning over his body.

It stinks, and Quentin finds it difficult to turn towards it. When he does, he sees that it’s sweating and shaking. Withdrawal, he assumes and cringes. Was Eliot going through it? He shakes the thought away. The Monster’s words about ‘crawling ants’ confirm Quentin’s suspicions. He tries to inform the Monster about withdrawal but it cuts him off, suggesting more drugs. Quentin scrambles to come up with something to stop it. Somehow he’s able to convince it to give him more time. After agreeing, it disappears in search of someone else to kill. Shit. Quentin has to work faster. There was no telling how many had already died at its hands.

Quentin and Julia exhaust all of their research options, which is how they find themselves turning to Kady. She has inroads with the hedge witch community. Quentin knows from his experience at the Push tournament that hedges traffic in magical artifacts. With nothing else to go on, they make their case to Kady. Kady does have access to the magical black market, she tells them, but also that Julia isn’t going to like how.

Pete is someone Quentin has never met but judging by Julia’s reaction, he isn’t going to like him very much at all. Julia gives him the short version of her history with Pete, and Quentin finds himself _loathing_ him. Not only is Pete a cohort of Marina’s, he straight up took advantage of Julia when she was in a vulnerable state. He is, as Julia dubs him, a ‘creep’. Pete introduces himself as “Lovelady,” whatever the fuck that means, and Kady leaves them to it.

They get right down to business. Pete shows them several pictures matching their search for a stone organ, and Quentin’s heart soars when the third picture is the stone. Of course, nothing is ever easy; the stone is in the possession of a dragon. The dragon is in New York, the East River, so that’s something. First, they have to gain an audience with the dragon through its ‘Herald’, whatever that is. They’re going to have to find something to trade, and they don’t have much to work with. They decide they’re just going to have to ask the dragon what it wants.

A normal man, called Harold, is the ‘Herald’ of the dragon. He tries to turn them away, but with some pleading they get him to talk. The dragon is missing something, Harold tells them, something that was stolen. He doubts they can help, but eventually divulges that a powerful Elixir had been stolen. The thief used a dart that couldn’t be tracked. Quentin recognizes immediately that the dart is from Fillory, which is why they couldn’t track it. They used the wrong circumstances.

Quentin only has to think on it for a moment before realizing they’ll need a much simpler spell to track down the Elixir. He can think of only one person who would both steal from a dragon and who has been to Fillory. Poppy.

Poppy was a loathsome person, selfish, cruel and arrogant. Quentin shudders as he remembers their last encounter, her disgusting kisses as she tried to push him back onto the bed. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, and he’d had to push her away. He hated her, had hoped he would never have to come into contact with her again, but a short spell later he’s knocking on the door of the Physical Kids Cottage. Julia, 23 and Kady come, but they don’t come up to the door. They’re there purely for back up. Quentin is the most gentle of them and given his history with Poppy, he has the best chance at getting the Elixir without things turning ugly. They’re plan B, especially Kady, who would not be afraid to resort to violence.

Quentin feels a rush of gratitude towards Kady. She doesn’t have to help them, but she is anyway. She doesn’t have much of a dog in the Eliot Monster fight, but they’re still her friends. Eliot is still her friend. Though they sometimes don’t get along, and often have nothing in common other than each other, Kady is still a part of their little rag-tag family. Quentin sometimes forgets how loyal she is, and he’s grateful for her help.

Poppy opens the door, looking confused, but her furrowed brow relaxes when she sees Quentin. She’s covered in sweat, and her hair is greasy. She greets him with a sneer. Quentin guesses she hasn’t forgotten their last interaction.

“What do _you_ want?” she asks.

“Poppy,” Quentin says. “What are you doing in the Physical Kids Cottage?”

“Not your business,” she snarls.

“So, you got this in Fillory and used it to steal Elixir from a dragon?” he says, holding the dart up.

“Uh, no. Why would I?”

“Because you’re a dragon obsessed crazy person who does selfish things for personal gain?” Quentin says.

“Oh, please,” she says. “Name one example of… well, actually, don’t”

“I remember.” Quentin hopes she catches the double meaning. He’s referring to her giving him the Depression Key, ultimately ending Benedict’s life, _and_ trying to take advantage of him.

“Whatever,” she spits. “I didn’t fucking rob anyone.”

“Yeah, um, you’re literally dripping sweat. If that’s not a sign of someone hiding something, I don’t know what is,” Quentin says.

“Fine,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You caught me, I’m hiding something. But it’s not what you think.” She opens the door wider, stepping back to give him a view of her very pregnant belly.

“Oh,” Quentin says, surprised. He’s taken aback for a moment, but then remembers that this is Poppy, and he doesn’t care. If anything, he’s worried about the kid, having her as a mother. He gathers himself again, staying on task. “Congratulations? Look, I’m here for the Elixir, I need it. It’s important.”

“I don’t have it,” she insists, but Quentin can tell she’s lying. Her eyes are darting around nervously, and she keeps looking over her shoulder back into the cottage. She’s obviously hiding something, and it’s not her pregnancy.

“Poppy, look,” Quentin says, “I know we don’t have the best history, and I don’t think you’re a very good person, but I know you’re not evil. Not really anyway. I really need the Elixir. Lives are on the line.”

“Okay fine, you know what? Come on in,” Poppy says. Quentin doesn’t like the look in her eyes, but he heads in anyway.

Once inside, the first thing he feels is the heat. It’s sweltering, and moisture rises to the surface of his skin almost immediately. Poppy shuts the door, locking it behind them. She gazes at him nervously before letting him have a look around. Most of the furniture has been moved, creating a large open space in the common room. In the middle of it several large heat lamps are on full blast in a circle. Before he has a chance to find this odd, she ushers him over to the cubby hole. Inside, a large egg is nestled in some blankets.

“Uh, Poppy…”

“Okay, you can’t tell anyone,” Poppy says. “I’m having a baby.”

“I can see that,” Quentin says, glancing at her stomach.

“No. It’s a dragon egg. I used the Elixir to fertilize it. Now it’s mine.”

“Poppy… you have to give this back. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking, human raising a dragon, unprecedented and historical!” she says.

“God dammit,” Quentin mutters, mostly to himself. The Elixir is gone, and he has nothing to trade to the dragon. Except, he realizes, he does. If he gives the dragon back the egg, he might have a chance at getting the stone. “I’m taking this and I’m giving it back to the dragon.”

“Oh are you? Well, go right ahead,” Poppy says. She’s smiling. Quentin doesn’t like that, but he reaches for the egg anyway.

The moment he lays a hand on the egg, a strange feeling creeps up inside him. After a moment it overwhelms him and he almost needs to sit down. He can only describe the feeling as protective. It’s this sudden urge to defend something at all costs, he just can’t quite figure out what it is. It’s effecting him magically. Poppy can tell, because she smiles at him, victorious.

“This is my baby, and now, it’s yours too!” she says, like it’s the best thing in the world.

“What?” Quentin lets go of the egg, taking two large steps back. “No, it’s not. What are you talking about?”

“It’s effecting you, it’s power. It wants you to be its Daddy!”

“No!” he says, horrified. “That’s not… I’m here for...”

Quentin trails off, unable to finish. Why was he here again? The power is so strong he’s almost forgotten. It’s swimming through his brain, clouding up his mind. He has to focus, has to strategize. What was he supposed to do? He needs the egg to trade for the stone, but the part of him that knows that is drifting further away. Quentin reaches for anything to stabilize himself, finding it deep in a memory.

Daddy. The word rings in his mind, familiar but distant. It’s an echo from another life. He sees a little boy running around in circles, chasing after a floating ball, shouting _“Daddy! Daddy! Look!”_ It brings a smile to his face. Teddy had been such an active, rambunctious child. His laughter fills the memory. To the side of the mosaic Eliot is standing there, hand outstretched, controlling the ball. Eliot. That’s why he was here.

Quentin fights against the pull drawing him to the egg. It’s powerful, but he knows he can break through it. He thinks of his love for Eliot, and for Teddy. He’s been a father before. This feeling isn’t one of love, or parenthood. It’s some bizarre magical force playing games with his mind. He shakes himself out of it.

“Poppy,” he says. “I’m taking the egg.”

“You can’t, Quentin. I need it. Don’t you understand? Don’t you feel it?” Poppy says. He knows she must be drowning in the egg’s force. “Come on. Just give it a chance.”

“No.” Quentin takes another step backward. He notices that sometime during his battle with the egg’s effect, she’s come to stand in front of it, taking a protective stance. He looks her in the eyes, sees the crazed look in them, and knows he has to tread carefully. “I need it. It’s life or death.”

“You’re not taking my baby,” she says.

“Poppy,” Quentin says, trying to get through to her, “you- you have a baby, a _real_ baby. You’re pregnant.”

“Oh, that? Yeah, I’ll have two kids, no problem. Lots of single moms out there, and besides, if you stick aroundddd...” Poppy says, drawing out the last word in a sing song voice. The implication disgusts Quentin. The effect of the egg is pressing against him, but he remembers what she tried to do to him.

“Look, I really don’t care about you, or the egg, and I’d be worried about your baby, but I don’t have a lot of time. Give it to me.”

“NO!” Poppy shouts, pulling her lips up in a snarl. “You can’t have my baby!”

Before Quentin can say anything else, the door bursts open. It’s been blasted, presumably by Kady’s best battle magic. Kady, 23 and Julia rush inside, take in Poppy and the egg and stop in their tracks. They look just as confused as Quentin had been.

“What’s taking so long?” Kady says. “Where’s the Elixir?”

“None of you are taking my baby!” Poppy says, standing in front of the egg.

“Uhhh…” Julia says, head tilted to the side. Kady doesn’t miss a beat. In a second, the confusion is replaced with annoyance.

“Okay. I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but I really don’t care. Is the Elixir here or not?” she asks.

“It’s gone,” Quentin says. “She used it on the egg. We have to take it back to the dragon.”

“Hand it over,” Kady says, all business.

“I’ll never give it to you!” Poppy growls, stalking forward.

“Yeah, you will,” Kady says. She reaches to her side, pulls out a gun, and levels it at Poppy.

“You won’t shoot me, you wouldn’t dare!” Poppy spits.

“You’re right.” Kady says. She shifts her aim, lining the up the barrel with the egg. “But I’ll shoot this thing.”

“No!” Poppy screams. “Okay! Okay!”

“We can’t touch it,” Quentin says. “It has a power, if effects you.” His mind is still swimming from the egg’s influence. He looks around for something to wrap the egg in, but Julia steps forward and lifts it into her arms. She appears unaffected. “How can you…?”

“Magic doesn’t work on me like it does other people,” she says, shrugging.

“No, wait, please!” Poppy cries. She lunges toward the egg. Kady cocks the gun and that stops Poppy, who steps back, defeated.

They leave behind a tear stricken Poppy, making it to the Herald just after nightfall. When they explain that the Elixir is gone, the dragon rises from the water, towering above their heads, furious. Quentin is so tired he could laugh. He’s tired of everything, sick of the absurdities. A tiny part of him wants it all to just be over. Thankfully, he’s not alone and Julia springs into action.

“The Elixir is here, oh Ancient One.” She holds the egg out towards the dragon. “In this egg. It’s… been fertilized.”

“What?” the Dragon says. “I’m too young to be a mother. Wait, how can you hold it like that?”

“If you please,” Julia says, “we want to exchange this egg for the stone organ you possess.”

“Well...” the dragon seems to think it over for a minute. “Fine. In the basket.”

Julia places the egg into a basket that’s hanging over the water, and lowers it down. Quentin’s knees go weak with relief. It’s done. They’ll get the stone. They were one step closer to saving Eliot.

The apartment is quiet when they get back. It makes Quentin’s hair stand up on end. The Monster could still appear at any moment. His muscles are tense with anticipation, like they are most of the time. He lives in constant fear, now. That’s what his life has become.

They wait for the Stone to be delivered and around 3am the Herald shows up. Julia gets the door, collecting the stone from him. She comes back looking bewildered.

“Everything okay?” 23 asks.

“Yeah,” Julia says. “He just, he told me something about my God power. The dragon knew I wasn’t… normal. She said I must seek ‘The Binder.’”

“The Binder?” Quentin repeats.

“I mean, if we could find whatever it is, get my power back, that would go a long way to helping us,” Julia says.

“Okay, yeah.” Quentin runs a hand through his hair, pulling it back and letting it go. “So we do that, too. We look for the Binder.”

Quentin feels guilty for thinking it, but he doesn’t care about Julia’s God power right now. The Monster was stronger than her anyway and it might just kill her. They would still be at square one. Still, it’s his best friend, and it _is_ important. They do nothing but research these days, what’s one more topic?

About five minutes after that conversation, the Monster appears behind Quentin. His whole body jolts and he can feel himself starting to shake. He can’t take it anymore. The constant terror and stress. The ever present danger it presents, that it could kill him, kill Eliot, at any moment. The Monster says something so fast Quentin doesn’t catch it. It darts for the box containing the stone, and without another word, disappears with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think, sorry if this was too long.


End file.
